


The Dragon at Knights Inn

by wolfie180g



Series: Dragon Dean series [2]
Category: Supernatural, The Borrowers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, All the AU's, Alternate Universe, Angst, Animal Attack, Animal Death, Art, Big Sam, Borrowers - Freeform, Cages, Contest winner!, Creature Dean, Crossover, Demon, Dimension Travel, Dragon Dean, Dragon!Dean is still scared of heights, Dragons, Fanart, G/T, Gen, Giant/Tiny, Giants, Humans, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Littles, Monster - Freeform, Monster Dean, Pictures, Side Story, Sprites, Test subject, Time Travel, Tiny Dean, Tiny sam, Tiny!Sam, Weechesters, artwork, big dean, contest entry 2017, miniature, nightmares06, small dragon, spellwork, tinies, tiny!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-03 14:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 123,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10249046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfie180g/pseuds/wolfie180g
Summary: Nightmares06 made me do it!This fic has my Dean as a dragon in Oscar's hotel, The Knights Inn.Update! This won the contest along with my other fic, Brothers transposed!!!Thanks for the support!It takes place in ch 31 Dragon!Dean is Still Scared of Heights. As a kind of added scene.Dean is 6in tall and injured and spots an impossibly small person slip into the room through the heating vent, sneaking around for bits of food. Dean follows the mousy guy and gets stuck in the walls in a pile of plaster pinning him helplessly down. He fears he's going to die in there when a familiar face walks towards him. It looks like Sam but that's impossible. The guy is 4 inches tall and 10 years younger then he should be, and he doesn't recognize his brother at all.The shrunken Sam and Dean discover there's more then just their two worlds, and run into trouble in nearly all of them. Every doorway leads to another universe and more tiny Sam's and Dean's then they know what to do with, and even a giant thrown in! Along the way they meet wood sprites, tricksters, consulting detectives and a monster that none of them had ever encountered before.





	1. It's Been Such A Long Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightmares06](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmares06/gifts), [PL1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PL1/gifts).



The Dragon at Knights Inn

 

Chapter One:

It's Been Such A Long Time  


 

 

Dean can't sleep.

It's really no surprise either, Dean had been on the run from damn near _everybody_ alive. That is, every person that had ever seen him, not including his close family and friends, for _so long_ that he's forgotten what it was like to be free. Truly _free_. Sometimes even forgotten what it was like to have been _human_. The memories are there, but they've had this taint to them, this change that is so subtle it's nearly imperceptible to him unless he's really focusing on it. Humanity... it feels like a random Saturday night that was fun while it lasted, but is long over for him. What was that saying? Die by the monster or live long enough to become one? No, wait. Live by the sword, die by the pen? Fuck. Something like that... irony's a bitch either way. Metaphor slinging wont make him fall asleep any faster or understand things any better. It's just a real Fubar situation.

For starters, becoming a dragon was not at all what Dean'd ever expected to happen, but well, here he is. Quadruple shoulder shrug. He looks like a regular old western dragon, not like those stretched out snakelike Chinese dragons. He's got four legs, two big bat-like wings, long neck and arrow shaped horned head. His thick scaled hide is mostly browns, from tan to dappled burnt umber for the skin, his spine spikes and claws were all black. Horns a dirty ivory. All the colors were in a rocky camouflaged pattern like a common desert lizard, and he's pretty damned good at blending into nature because of it. Dean's personal freckles and unique green eyes were the few things that were all 'Dean' in this new body, and without them, he'd have been killed by either Bobby or Sam the second they saw him.

One failed hunt with Sam many months ago and now he's a dragon. Well, _Drauglin_ if you wanna get technical since he's not really a 'dragon' dragon. Drauglin's don't go after virgins or valuables or hoard anything really, and FYI, silver burns them, so that's nice. Drauglin's are more concerned with the balance of nature then any assumptions humans made about them. Most of them aren't violent unless provoked, and are as varied as whatever animal their parents ate as catalyst for their baby Drauglin body. They usually live quiet, solitary lives, and only eat things that are abundant instead of endangered. Managing populations and environments around their homes. Half of them don't even eat meat. But that doesn't stop people from wanting to kill the dragon before due process. There's a very long history of using 'dragons' as scapegoats for everything gone wrong. No one wants to stick around and get to know them first.

During that fateful hunt, Sam had destroyed a nest of three large twitching eggs, while Dean was off trying to kill the mother. She got to him instead since bullets don't work, only blades and sharp instruments, and saw that her old nest was gone. She was upset and decided to start again with Dean. Swallowing him whole and alive and birthing him as a brand new Drauglin baby. Raising him with respect and love with the intent of waiting till he's self sufficient enough before having more babies. Most monsters become so from bites or blood, while Drauglin's go another route.

Sam and Bobby were able to find Dean again but they were too late. The toddler was still Dean, but also, _not_ Dean. A mix of human and Drauglin. They had to raise him while hiding him from other Hunters, but when he had partially grown up, equivalent to a 20 something, he was captured by Azazel, a Hunter that owned a 'Monster Zoo'. Learning how to hurt and kill monsters with different weapons and methods. Dean had been tortured, mind fucked, and turned into Azazel's 'dog'. Then the military got their hands on him, intent on taking his flammable spray and studying his natural defenses, turning him into a weapon. Eventually he was sold after Dean burned down the building around himself. So his new owner Michael wanted him studied as an odd specimen with the threat of being dissected once he learned all he could. His team of scientists doing the dirty work. It was Balthazar, the conspiracy theorist (among other things), and Castiel the cryptozoologist who saw the hidden humanity in the gigantic monster they were studying. They were able to hypnotize Dean into remembering his past life as a human and the two of them wanted the poor guy to be free of all the cages and pain. Meanwhile, Sam and Bobby had finally found Dean again, and Cas and Balth helped him escape, burning the cage and building down to distract the enemy long enough to get some miles between them.

Sam and Bobby were the front seat of the Impala, with Cas and Balth in the back, with no room for a 30 foot tall Drauglin when they went on the run. So far, they managed to avoid all of the people that were hunting him down for sport, revenge, science, or captured as an exotic pet, and an attack dog. The small group needed to hide and transport him better to keep him safe till the solstice, when they will be able to change him back into a human again with a dangerous spell. So after an ingenious idea was brought up, and some quick and mostly harmless spell work, he's now a mere 6 inches tall and roughly the size of a rat.

Their numerous enemies are now looking in all the wrong places for them, but the time out wont last forever. Eventually someone might find them, and then Dean's life will be over. The other's were also at risk, depending on who finds their group first. No one is safe. For now though, they managed to find a small motel and are taking a much appreciated breather to get their strength back and rest.

If only Dean could just _rest._

Being six inches tall, on the run, stressed out, suffering from PTSD from all the _shit_ he's had to endure, injured from sparing with a drone to work on his flying and fighting skills in his body, and being haunted by all those memories are not conducive to a peaceful nights' sleep. His injured left arm was bandaged up and the left leg needed a splint for the broken bone. Two cue tips had to work for the splint, and he could walk again fairly well now that its nearly healed. His new biology helps his body heal a little faster then humans, but it's not instant and pain free. Recovery takes time, so he's been taking it easy, letting the others carry him around. He can still fly, but the holes in his wings from escaping Michael's cage were only just sealed. Putting too much strain on them hurts, but at least he's able to get around that way if he needs to.

Sam and Bobby are in the same hotel room, and it's nice to be able to catch up with his family like this. That's not to say he doesn't care about the others in the next motel room over, it had just been awhile since he'd spent time with just his brother and surrogate dad. Both of which are snoring softly on the two beds while he's snuggled into a shirt nest inside the nightstand's drawer. It's mainly a precaution to protect him from being seen, should someone burst into the room unexpectedly, or if any mice or rats take offense to sharing their homes with a fire breathing dragon. Animals generally don't like Dean very much. Despite him being small enough to fit in Sam's hand.

The sounds from the other room had drifted from idle chat to silence. Indicating that Cas and Balthazar are sleeping soundly, and Rufus is either still keeping watch, or had drifted off as well. All was quiet, and a perfect time to sleep, if only... urgh. Moments of peace were rarely held for any length of time. Hell, even Dane was asleep in their shared headspace. Dean could feel that the pure Drauglin was out for the night. Lucky bastard.

Dean idly pondered if he and Dane's consciousnesses never split apart from the original hybrid, if he'd be sleeping without worrying about shit. Wondering what Dane would do if he was in control of their body right now. Would the Drauglin wake someone else up to chat? Probably wake up Dean, most likely, since they can share their headspace and chat in their inner make-belief forest, instead of growling or chirping out loud and potentially wake up the humans in the room. Dean considered doing the same to him, but, Dane needed the rest too. They were still getting to know each other and he didn't want to piss his Drauglin half off. Sharing a body and mindscape didn't necessarily mean all thoughts, ideas and consciousnesses were out there in the open. Thank _God_. So Dean knew it would take time to bond. However, those touchy feely moments could wait. Right now. Dean was even more tired. And he _couldn't fucking sleep._

He grumbled a little and saw the sliver of light from above, stretching out his brown camouflaged wings from the cocoon they'd made to block out all distractions, but, hell with it. It wasn't working. Might as well get up and move around. Maybe if he tires out his body, his stupid head will follow. Rehashing his life as a dragon isn't helping him find peace.

Dean stands and stretches out his limbs like a cat, head and long neck twisting to crack the length of vertebra and sighing at the satisfying string of pops. His two bound left limbs are pains in the ass to work with, but he manages to disentangle himself from the shirt nest Sam half wrapped him in. His gigantic little brother is probably enjoying babying Dean a bit too much. However, Dean has to admit, when he'd been jumbo size, taller then most trees and buildings, he saw all the hand sized humans as fragile and weak too. So he figures it's natural to wanna protect things that are small.

Dean doesn't really like needing the protection, and wants to prove, at least to himself, that he can still get around without assistance. So he ambles up to the front end of the drawer and using his wings to push against the top of the nightstand, and his hands and body against the front, he rams his small body into the front of it, opening the drawer a bit more. Testing the opening with his wings, he finds its not quite wide enough. He backs up and jumps into it again, jolting it open another inch which is all he needs. Dean climbs out of the drawer, scrabbling briefly for purchase with his good hand and leg claws, wings working overtime and bending in ways that he's not used to. Making it up onto the outer edge of the drawer and instead of turning around and getting on top the nightstand, he just jumps down from there towards the floor, wings outstretched just to slow his descent.

What he didn't see from up there was the opened spell book that had fallen to the floor. His four feet landing right in the middle of a circle on one of the pages and he shakes himself out from the impact. His hand and leg aching a bit, even with the slowed down controlled fall. His cue-tip splint smeared the tiniest drop of blood onto the circle that glowed slightly before dulling. Dean hadn't noticed, he just stepped off of the book before Bobby crabs him out about claws on his precious book's pages.

Little did he know, that smidgen of blood activated a spell that unlocks a _threshold_. The first threshold is to a dimension that would reveal what is foremost on his subconscious mind. No one else from his home dimension can pass into the next, but that's not stopping the small residents of the dimension next door. All entrances in and out of Dean's room will lead to another, but for him alone.

Dean doesn't know any of that, yet, he's a bit dizzy from accidentally activating the granddaddy of trans-dimensional segues. Oblivious and tired, a bad combination, he soldiers on. The others still sleeping, Dean scowls at each contented snore. 'Rub it in why don't ya.' he grumble chirps. Saying it extra quietly since Sam and Cas are able to understand his speech, even when he's tiny, due to the communication spell working overtime. Not only does it translate his Drauglin speech, it translates damn near everything coming from him. The three can share dreams, and sensing Dean's feelings were a side effect that they weren't expecting. At least his thoughts are still his own... for the most part, unless Dane turns into an asshole. But the dude is asleep in their head, so Dean's left to wander the room alone. He's getting more and more used to this. Seeing massive furniture towering into the sky. Feeling vibrations in the floor from people walking around in the other motel rooms. Hearing strangers having a fight down the way. All of it was just that much louder, stronger, and more intimidating. He disliked being this small, but, it was the best way to keep him hidden till solstice, then if everything goes alright, he'll split apart from the Drauglin, Dane, and be fully human again. And Dane can go on and do whatever he likes without having Dean in his mind and body, taking up half of everything.

Dean shook his head. He's not walking around at 2 am to keep stressing about everything, this is meant to clear his mind. Give himself a workout. And with any luck, pass out in a place where he wont be stepped on by his brother or Bobby.

Dean pauses his exploration when he hears a scuffling sound in the vent and goes to investigate silently. Huh, he must have fallen asleep standing, because this can't be real. His insomnia is making him hallucinate an impossibly small _person_. One who's currently climbing out of the heating vent that's close to the floor, next to the bathroom. Dean is stock still, blinking rapidly as if that would get rid of the person's image. Nope. It's really there. A guy that's about 3 and a half inches tall, crazy brown hair that's in all directions at once, and thin as a rail. If he wasn't looking right at him, Dean wouldn't have detected the guy at all, because the dude's so damned quiet, _sneaky_.

Deans instincts are starting to wake up. Not all monsters are big. He glances up at the beds, Sam and Bobby are still sleeping. He turns his side fan ear to the other motel room and hears nothing coming from them, no sounds of distress. So this probably isn't an invasion of tiny people. Dean folds in his wings to reduce his outline and very slowly crouches down, staring intently at him. It's not a Fae, probably. No glitter or lights. A sprite? No, no wings on it. What else is this small... It looks like a normal human 'cept for his size. Dean relaxes a bit the more he watches the guy navigate the room. It's almost as if he's never been in it before. Not a native to this motel? The biggest question on his mind is, is this guy harmful and if so, does Dean need anything special to kill it, or could he just spit fire at him. With his left arm and leg out of commission, he is reluctant to get into a physical fight. Even if the guy is half his height and a fraction of his overall size, it could just mean he's scrappy. Small guys gotta know how to fight big ones. And they don't get much smaller then this dude. Dean is actually starting to feel bad for it as the mousy guy picks through the debris under the dresser, finding a dried out pimento. Someone that had the room before them must have had an olive in a drink. The guy was gnawing on a corner of it for a second before grimacing at the taste, but still putting it in his little cloth bag. A scavenger.

Dean's gaze goes over to the spilled trail mix the same time the dude's does. It's just a raisin and peanut. Not bad of an option, at least there's something better to eat then what he's got so far. Must be starving. Dean watches him run to the two pieces with an excited gleam in his eyes. Hell. This guy is making Dean feel guilty for some reason. Like, all Dean has to do is mention he's hungry, and bam, no less then two people are giving him options for what he wants to eat. Even when he was big, he had choices. Usually it ended up being deer or cow, but still. Food was there. Even when he was being mistreated at all the places he's been kept, they never let him starve. Restricted food, yes, but not outright _starve_ him. Now that he's little, there is an overabundance of food and options. He's never eaten so good in this life. But this poor guy? Why is he so scrawny when a damned apple is four times his size?

Dean bites a little at his long forked tongue. Maybe this guy doesn't have anyone that can get him food. He's living off of what people drop on the floor. Or left out. Damn. And he thought he had it rough.

The little dude carefully packs away the pieces that are on the floor and is looking up at the table top pensively before double checking on the humans in the room. Dean silently smirks. No way a discarded bag of trail mix left on the table would go ignored by someone like his uninvited guest. Dean settles down behind Sam's shoes and watches as the guy throws up a makeshift hook and tugs it into place. Impressed at the skill and speed of its manipulation and then his pride doubles as this three and a half inch tall guy climbs to the tabletop. No net. No safety. He just up and climbed up with nothing to hold onto but that line of thread. Fucking kudos!

Dean bites back a chirp of praise. Getting back into Hunter mode. This guy is little, scrawny, and probably malnourished, but he's also an unidentified intruder. Dean's body flattens out, tail twitching a bit in anticipation for things to go sideways. The guy just grabs a few more peanuts and M&M's for his little bag. Dean can't really see whats going on, but he hears it. When he gets to the end of the table again, the cloth bag is weighing him down, but it looks like it could feed him for a week, and even though Dean isn't going to be throwing the welcome mat out for him, he's pretty sure that a few bits of trail mix aren't going to be missed by Sam or Bobby. Dean can't eat anything besides meat, or veggies in very very small quantities. Equivalent to a few tablespoons worth, were he human sized.

The mousy guy then swings off of the table like it's totally normal, sliding down the thread again. A flick of the wrist and he dislodged his makeshift hook and is winding it up whilst booking it back to the vent. Dean snaps out of his impressed staring and gives chase. More out of curiosity then anything. The guy easily slips through the heating vent slats without making much of a sound. Just a few silent grunts when his bag is caught for a few seconds. Apparently he's not used to having such a successful haul. Dean's heart lurches a little at that thought. Pushing it aside. Can't let it get to him. Nothing about this is normal. Tiny people just don't exist so this guy is obviously a monster of some kind.

Dean gets to the vent a few seconds after him, hobbling along on two good legs and using his wings to help him find a good pace. Getting used to using his bound limbs, he finds it's actually fairly painless. Not ideal, but still, he's got an intruder to catch. The vent is too narrow for something his size of course, so he's got to pry it from the wall. The guy startles and yelps at the sound. Dean is getting pissed at the vent. Clawing at the edges and yanking for all he's worth. At last, it pops free and he's standing at the entrance, wings splayed out to show the guy that he's not to be messed with. There's no telling what mouse boy would do when he's discovered so it's a good idea to make an impressive first impression.

'Who are you?' Dean growls out. Wondering if mouse guy is a deceptively dangerous thing that was just scouting out the room to come back later with friends, and decided to steal from them in the meantime. The guy bolts down the vent and Dean struggles to keep up. His wings have to be brought in tight because the warm vent walls wont allow anything more. At least he can use them to keep himself from falling to his left side, repeatedly bumping his body into the wall to stay upright.

Dean tracks him down the heating vent and to a place where the metal vent opens up into the walls. The scents change and it feels even warmer then before. Air current changing as well. Not strong, but there. The wall to the room on the other side is cool like someone over there had the AC on. Which is stupid as hell since it's still early spring and freezing outside.

He can suddenly smell the guy better now. Dean's on mouse guy's home turf. There's obviously fresh fear there, a tang of desperation and of course, peanuts. Dean shoves aside the peanut smell in case the guy ditches his bag down a hole and he looses his trail. Sorting through the other scents in the walls and finding his quarry again. It is so dark, and the guy is far more agile and comfortable inside the walls then out. That much is obvious since mouse boy is barely making a sound besides his panting breaths and the peanuts clacking against each other. It's enough to track. Both of them moving more determined now that Dean's too far from Sam for backup. This thing might be going to sound some alarm and get more of them to hurt his family who'd never expect it, they're all still sleeping. Totally unaware. Dean kicks himself for not shouting something to Sam before he left.

He has to get this guy _right now_.

Mouse jumps over a pile of plaster chunks, loosing a peanut from his overstuffed bag, but he's not looking back. Dean hoists his front up onto the pile but it slides out from underneath. Dislodging more of the rough plaster making him get stuck between the walls, pushing and scrambling for release. All the chunks seem to have a vendetta against him because he's only managing to get himself even more stuck. Wings beat overhead, but that's when a chunk of the inner plaster falls down and pins him painfully down.

'Ahh! Fuck! _fuck_.' He mutters, pants hard for a few seconds and grunts. 'Hey! Little guy!'

The kid is gone. Vanished the second he stopped watching. Awesome.

Dean tries to squirm his way out but it's no use. Biting smaller pieces and throwing them away from himself but he can't get a good grip on the main ones, too large for his toothy maw. His legs are throbbing and he tries to not think about it. Ten minutes pass, he's too ticked at himself to needlessly struggle. It's pointless. He waits. Half an hour now, no sight or sound from ahead or behind. After an hour of waiting and restricted breaths, he finally drifts in and out of a light oxygen deprived doze. Willing the sun to come up soon so his Sam can come and find him. Rescue him from these fucking walls.

But, no luck there. Unwelcomed thoughts interrupt his sleep. What if Sam never finds him? What if he dies in here? What if they leave and never know what happened to him? Trapped in the dark. Alone. Forgotten. Only thing he has to look forward to now is starving to death.

Dean is damn near close to crying when he hears scuffling down the way and soon scents the same guy as before. Not much for options at this point, he decides to go for diplomatic. 'Ok, hey little dude. I'm sorry I scared you... I'm kind of in a bind right now. Well, not _kind of_ , it's a _literal_ bind. I'm fucked basically.' He wiggles for emphasis and winces as the cramped muscles. He pants a few more times and looks back up again. Glad the guy hadn't run off again. That's progress right? He clears his throat and hates that it sounded like growling. He switches to his most melodic chirps, even if the guy doesn't speak a lick of Drauglin, it doesn't hurt to try and at least sound pathetic and harmless. 'If you let me out, I swear I wont follow you.' Straining his ears to hear any response. And he would too, leave him alone. Cause the guy deserves the benefit of the doubt. So far he hasn't done anything bad. Just taken some stupid peanuts and M &M's.

There was a pause in the scuffling sounds but it resumes and Dean takes a few sniffs in the dark. Surprised that he can smell Sam. Great! It must mean Sam's up and already looking for him. Hope soars as he tries to look above and behind the mound of plaster on top of him.

'Sam! I'm in here!' He shouts behind himself as best he can, just as mouse guy is seen. Split second later and the lil guy retreats past the bend in the wall. Dean considers the dude. He hasn't seemed too dangerous. But, appearances can be deceiving. He struggles some more. Hoping that he can suddenly get free, but two more chunks of plaster fall, the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, and _all_ movement is stilled... 'Fuck.' he huffs, chest compressed further. Double fuck. Dean strains his ear fans and listens for his brother. For anyone back in the rooms. Nothing.

He had spent enough time small to be able to tell when his brother was near just by the vibrations of sound or in the floor. Sam's scent is getting stronger and he squints in the darkness to see that there wasn't just one little guy, but two. 'Fuuuuck.' he grits out. Dude brought backup. 'Don't come any closer!'

The second one is a bit taller, about four inches and now the mouse dude looks even more puny against another of his kind. Dean, standing at 6 inches meant that he's not too worried about taking them on in a fight, if he were free.. and uninjured, and not slowly _suffocating_ and _trapped and gonna_ _ **die**_ _and where the hell is_ _ **Sam**_ _?!_

Dean has no useful mobility, the only thing showing is his head and neck to his shoulders and one bound hand. The rest is under rubble. All those years hunting monsters when he was human, and he's going to die by the hands of two tiny people he wouldn't be able to see properly at his 30 foot tall true size. They'd be no bigger then a kernel of corn.

They approach him warily and he flashes his fangs. Forked tongue darting out for good measure. The bigger one flashes a knife and has an attack stance from the silhouette's indication. Huh, so. Some training. Makes sense. These guys would have to fight against things bigger then them all the time. Rats and mice and bugs and shit. Fuck that's all he needs right now. A damned rat sneaking up behind him and chewing his tail off while these guys slit his throat.

'Not going down like this.' he pants and growls, pushing and shoving for all he's got, not moving much more then the bones inside his body. Scales flush with his tomb walls. 'No!' he angles his head around, using the two horns at the back to scrape at the largest chunk over his head. Dust falls down his face but he squints and butts his head against it till he's left coughing and hyperventilating.

All his struggling is making it worse on his injuries and he smells fresh blood coming from his hand. The taller one gets closer, the other right behind and just oozing fear scents everywhere, drowning out his own. The littler one is practically hanging onto knife guy's sleeve. The blade is still held up as they make their way irrevocably closer. Dean's so screwed. He could set them on fire but that might burn the place down. Potentially killing Sam and the others back in the room. There's not much that can douse his flames so he holds back. There's no sense risking his family's lives even if his is basically over.

So he growls in defiance but it's cut off by a painful jab in his side from some nails that were embedded in one of the chunks. He just had to break it up and reveal the rusty nails. Good job, Winchester.

He's getting too damned dizzy from the pinched space. Reducing blood flow makes parts of his body fall asleep, go numb. Did that rat already eat his tail? Who the hell knows. Wait... what rat? There was a rat? He shakes his head to clear it, looking up to see that the two are much closer. Sam's scent strong as ever. Green eyes squinting in the dark. 'No way.' Dean breaths. He inhales more and more. Not detecting any other scent but that kid and the bigger one. But that's _not_ possible. He left his brother in the room. The two little people enter a shaft of thin light and Sam's face is right there. Grim and determined. His Sam. But that's not right, this Sam is younger then he's supposed to be. By nearly ten years going by Sam's hairstyle. 23? 24?

'Sammy?' Dean asked and he's getting dizzier. That drop of blood seemed to have turned into a small puddle. He lifted up his bound hand a fraction of an inch, and yup, its bleeding more then just a little. 'Fuck...' Dean looses the urge and energy to fight against those two. They may be the only ones that can help him. He smells Sam's scent again. Dean thought that it might have been a trick. His mind supplying his brother since his life's almost over. Flashing before his eyes, and nose... but not. It's not flashing because they're not going anywhere. Dean's still alive and Sam is still there. His scent strong and young. Filled with worry. Concern. The other one's scent is damn near screaming fear, but with a hint of determination. He's only there so that Sammy wont be alone. Dean can respect that.

Dean's head droops down. Panting turned to shallow breaths now. He tugs weakly at the bandage around his arm, hoping that it will tighten up around the seeping wound but starts to see spots in his already dark vision.

'Sammy? Please?' He whimpers. If he's to get out of here, he desperately needs their help.

The knife slowly falls to Sam's side. His head cocking a bit as he watches Dean carefully. Sam comes forward after handing off the knife to the shorter guy.

“Oscar?” Sam says and Deans heart lurches. That voice. Damn... he hadn't heard that voice, that _young_ in _ages._ It wasn't laced with the guilt that Dean's Sam has had since he'd been reborn as a dragon. “Oscar, hold it up in front of you, like this, and if it tries anything. Cut under it's jaw. It looks like that's its weak spot.

Dean snorts at that. 'Cold, Sam.' he mutters but can't find it in him to argue. They just see a monster. At least Sam told the mousy guy, how to kill him quickly instead of drawing it out. If they wait too much longer, they wont need to use a knife. Dean's stupidity and clumsiness would kill him.

Sam's attention comes back to him and he raises up his hands like soothing a wild animal. “I can help you.” he says slowly and waits for Dean to reply.

'That would be awesome, Sammy.' Dean sighs with relief. They're giving him a chance.

“Hold still, ok? No biting.” Sam says and gets closer. Still ready to jump away at a seconds notice.

Dean lifts up an eyebrow ridge and uses his bound hand to sloppily crisscross over his buried chest. Leaving a red X on the chunk of plaster under him. He huffs and pants. Licking his lips before pursing his mouth shut and nodding. Head falling down a little.

Sam and the other guy, Oscar? Pause at that. They both smell shocked as hell but Sam grins while Oscar backs up a step.

“Sam?”

“It's ok.” Sam said to Oscar without turning around. “I think it's intelligent.”

Dean nods again but his vision is getting blurry, now there's two Sam's in front of him rotating around each other.

Sam creeps forward and reaches the first boulder sized chunk of plaster and nudges it. Eyes hardly straying from Dean's head. Mainly his mouth full of sharp teeth. Dean turns his head away and closes his eyes. Exhaling a sigh. Trying hard to look as harmless as possible. Sam has to push hard at the chunk but it comes loose, several more pieces falling down after it. Sam's hit in the leg with one of them and cries out silently. Biting his lip and his eyes dart to _the wall_ instead of Dean. Both of the guys freeze and stare at the wall. Dean cocks his head at that then figures it out. They don't want to be heard. Discovered.

Sam rubs his sore leg, clearly biting back some colorful curse words, and pulls at the next rock, then another. Deans wing is a little more free. Pins and needles all along the membrane and muscles. It twitches before pushing the smaller bits behind himself. Digs forward and pulls at the next bit to help out. Tingles replacing needles, going up and down the membranes. He hopes that the wings hadn't torn again. Sam doesn't stop the movement, doesn't stop digging and freeing him. The weight lifting from overhead and he's able to get his first full lungful of air in over an hour.

His eyesight's improving and his body feels lighter. Not crushed like it had been. He's not free yet, but being able to breath again... he's huff laughing in delight and relief. It looks like Oscar is trying to decide something. Dancing foot to foot with the knife practically dancing in his hands.

Oscar nods to himself and puts the knife in his recently emptied little bag and runs forward, helping move more of the debris. Dean moves away from the little hands as they work. Feeling the weight finally shift enough for him to move his good leg and he wiggles a bit more. Toes curling around a piece and kicking it behind him, dislodging and making several others fall away. He chirps once for their attention and _very_ gently and slowly, uses his nose to push them away. The first intended contact he'd made to them and they reacted pretty well to the touch. Dean lifted up his injured arm since the other was half supporting his weight, and pointing down the corridor the two had come from. Sam gets the hint and pulls Oscar back.

Oscar hands him his knife again and Sam clutches it, holding it up once again as Dean pushes and claws his way free. Falling to his side once he's past all of the main bulk of plaster. Huffing great breaths into the settling dust. All of his muscles are cramping or tingling and he waits it all out. Flexing his hand and foot, the length of his long tail. Wings open slightly but fold in again. The walls are too narrow for him to stretch out his wings so he settles for fidgeting them and sighing with relief that there doesn't seem to be any new holes. Sam and Oscar are backing up from him fearfully now.

“You're free now. You can go away and leave us alone.” Sam says sternly. “We wont come after you if you don't come after us.” The knife is waving and jerking with the words to emphasize his point.

Dean watches them move back into the shadows. His legs only hold him for so long before he drops like a bag of rocks. The blood loss catching up to him at last as he pants his way into exhaustion. Blackness overtakes him.

Dean comes to some time later. The blood had congealed but he still feels weak. At least he's alive. He hears a loud muffled voice on the other side of the wall and sees Sam had come back and is knocking on the wall in five inch increments. He hasn't noticed that Dean's awake.

“Dean?” Sam shouts and kicks at the wall.

Dean is excited and his breathing changed loud enough for Sam to look over in fear.

“Dean? It's awake now.”

 

 


	2. I Think I Should be Goin', Yeah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But When Worlds Collide  
> Said George Pal to his bride  
> I'm gonna give you some terrible thrills,  
> like a;  
> Supernatural fanfiction double feature

 

 

Chapter Two:

I Think I Should be Goin', Yeah

 

Dean had only a second to ponder why Sam would tell him that someone else is awake when there was a sudden nearly deafening knock on the other side of the wall, right where Sam was standing. Like it was actually answering the tiny man. Dean lifts up his head from its wince and looked around. Did that other guy pass out the same time he did? And just woke up?

'Sammy? Who woke up?' His thoughts were hard to catch and hold onto. His very small, inexplicably 14 years younger brother recognized him. Sam was always four years younger, but this time, he's an extra decade younger on top of that. Kid can't be past 24... Dean basically raised Sam since he was a baby, he'd know what age his brother was from just a glance. Those bangs in his eyes and the narrowness of his jaw bring back so many memories of him teasing his little brother about cutting them so he could see better. Eventually the bangs grew out more and the little twerp just tucked them behind his ears rather then cut them off. Defiant to his greater authority. Dean wouldn't force Sam to cut it, that would be going too far, but teasing, yes. His Sam back in their room also had a fair bit of scruff for a beard since they hadn't really had a chance to shave or manscape while running for their lives. It made Sam look even older then he was, that, in addition to the world weary lines on his face from this whole shitstorm of a life they were living these many months. God, what Dean would do to make his Sam look this young, this trusting, with those stupid bangs falling in his eyes...

Dean wondered why the hell he was so concerned about hairstyles at the moment. Watching this miniature Sam knock on walls and getting a response should be more precedent. Damned headache... concussion probably. Awesome.

Tiny Sam tears his eyes away from Dean long enough to bang on the wall with the hilt of his knife and then drag it noisily in a long line as he backs up another foot away from Dean, down the narrow hall. Then Sam sprinted further away, hands over his head. Dean wonders why Sam's doing all that banging when earlier he'd been so worried about making a sound when that rock fell on his leg. Thought he didn't want to be discovered?

Dean's musings are interrupted, and he's instantly scared shitless when a sudden _implosion_ happens right where Sam had knocked. Chunks of wall bouncing off of the inner wall opposite and landing all around. Plaster and wallpaper and pieces of wood ricochet everywhere. Dean unwraps a wing to cover up his head from the smaller chunks still falling down. The dust billowed outwards makes Dean cough raggedly. Whatever huge thing that demolished that part of wall is gone an instant later, and light floods the inside of the walls. Blinding him the second he peeks out from under his wing. A hand enters his cloudy vision and pulls out some of the pieces of card wood and plaster, making the hole wider and the area inside the wall clear of the larger chunks of debris.

“Sammy?” A booming voice asks outside of the wall and Sam is sprinting to the newly formed exit. Leaving Dean alone inside the wall with a gaping mouth. Did he just...?

“Here, Dean!” The hand's shadow moves back to shade most of the hole from its sheer size and proximity, and from the outline, implies that it's lifting Sam up and away.

'What. _The._ _ **Fuck**_?' Dean hisses. His heart hammering against his chest. Sam just... just left him for some gigantic human? Calling it _Dean_?!

A moment passes with Oscar and Sam talking quietly to someone outside of the wall that they just called Dean. He jolts when he recognizes the voice. It's _his_. His old _human_ one. Eyes wide he hears the other Dean talk about him. That version of him is young too, and apparently human. The idea of it is just too wild for him to really concentrate on. Another thing... this Sam is totally fine with being hauled off like a fucking _toy_?

The voice, his old voice, is talking to that Sam. Next level twilight zone shit. He feels like he's intruding on some sci-fi show. Dean just wants to go _home_. “So it's right about here?” A loud reverberating thump near his back side is felt through the wall. He panics. Dean's convinced that that section of wall will explode inward next. He's going to be crushed!

He scrambles back from it. Back from the hole, from the spot where the second threatening knock came from, from the freaky doppelgangers, from the... the... the _everything_! He doesn't want to stay and see anymore weirdness and cries out in pain when his retreating form hits the rubble pile right behind him. Shit that's right. He can't turn around in the tight space and he can't get his hind legs to work since one of them is still wrapped up in a splint. The broken bones had only just healed. He tries anyway. It's either re-break a leg, or die here now. Kicked into oblivion inside some fucking motel wall. His broken leg is lifted behind him and he cries out in pain. It rests on a chunk of plaster as he tries to get his other hind leg up as well without putting all his weight on the awkwardly held broken one. Nothing but agony shoots up from his legs to his spine, crumbling forward and coughing in the dust that coats the floor.

He cries out to release some of the pent up frustration and fear. Wings flap uselessly against the too tight walls.

A huge hand enters the hole in front of him like a bad movie monster, blocking out light. Its fingers grazing the dirt and plaster on the floor and searches him out. Sam re-enters next to the hand and Dean thinks for a second how dangerous that is to be around a human that size. But Sam's obviously confident enough that the other Dean isn't going to hurt him or make a wrong move and just directs the giant's fingers closer.

“He's backed up to the block. Dean? He looks pretty scared.” Sam warns loudly. Addresses him with a kinder voice, “It's ok little fella, we aren't gonna hurt ya.” Hands going up and to the sides in a calming gesture. “Keep going Dean, five inches more.”

Dean hears the giant shifting outside, likely crouching down further. He twists in the tight space, lifts up on his good hind leg, using one wing to help him try and turn around in the tight space, other wing flapping uselessly until it connects with the wall and the claw on his wing thumb digs in for some leverage. Dean feels a digit brush by his belly and it jolts him into falling forward again, _right onto it_. The hand curls around immediately and latches onto his hurt hand. Dean cries out when there's pressure around it. He's gonna pull it right out of socket!

' _Please stop_!' Dean yelps, going forward an inch so that his hand isn't crushed in that unrelenting digit.

Sam is shouting too. “Dean! Let go! That's his hurt foot!”

Instantly the hand recoils but hovers nearby, fingers going back to groping him out. Feeling Dean's neck and shoulders. He struggles to back up even more. Almost in that hand's grip. It traces down his side and fingers the bloody bandage again.

'Please, no.' Dean whimpers. It would be far too easy to snap his leg. The fingers move to his other side and the index wraps around his other hand, sliding up with the thumb in tow to solidify its grip of his good arm, tugging him forward. It's not as painful but it is just as bad to be in that grip. If that's really Dean, the Hunter, he wont wait to ask questions. He'll kill him. When Dean himself was younger, he had killed so many things... how many didn't deserve it? Is this fate? Karma? To be taken out by his own hands in this strange world?

'No! I don't want to die!' Dean cries out again, ignoring Sam's voice trying to console him. He's dragged ever closer to that opening, to his death. Fighting against the grip is doing nothing at all. His only other good leg is struggling to keep his body weight off of his two injured ones. Wings are behind him now, scratching long marks along the walls with the two thumb claws. It's no use but he can't just stop fighting for his life. Dean sees no other option as he bites down as much as he can to the pad of the hand, but can't fucking get a grip on it with his fangs since it's just too fucking big. Barely a twitch in the fingers from the bite. He's dragged faster now, lands on his stomach, pulled along like he was nothing more then a sock being retrieved from under a bed. Light floods his senses and he is blinded by it. Feeling the grip loosen once he's free of the wall. The hand retreats, leaving him laying on his belly, legs akimbo and wings half stretched out behind him. Dean blinks away the all encroaching orbs that blot out anything he wants to see. He scrambles backwards, trying to find the hole in the wall, to freedom, but his body doesn't want to work. Writhing weakly on the floor. He was worn out before, now he's on his way to becoming unconscious again. If he passes out now, he's _dead_.

“What the hell is it?” The giant asks, pulling something big and heavy over to cover up the hole after the small Sam exits the wall behind Dean. He hears sam cautiously move in a wide half circle around him, out of range of his wings or tail presumably. “This normal for your hotel, Oz?” Dean wished his executioner didn't sound like he did back when he was young.

Dean realizes that the original little dude is there too. The little guy, Oscar? Oscar sounds a short distance away and nervous. “I, I, I've never seen anything like it.” He says timidly. “But it looks scared.”

The giant humms in acknowledgment. Dean could practically feel all the eyes on him, judging him, planning on ways of killing him. “I don't like you guys near it.” Is all the giant Dean says before he's shifting to his knees to free up hands.

Dean's vision clears just enough to make it out as it lands a good foot away and the two small people climb up onto the fingers, moving to the wide palm. Oscar, a bit more hesitant, eventually sits down and hugs a finger. The giant moves his hand up to his shirt pocket first where Oscar is deposited with Sam's help, while Sam is lifted a bit higher to the giant's shoulder. The hand returns to Dean on the floor and brushes a finger down his back, next to his line of spikes along his spine.

“It's kinda cute for a little, uh, whatever it is.” The giant comments. Petting Dean again. The huge index finger curls around his panting head and lifts his long nose upwards. Dean squints into the light over the giant's head. It's being haloed by the overhead lights of the hotel room. Dean would bite the finger if he thought it would do any good. Right now, he's too busy trying to breath through his panic. The giant continues on as if he didn't have a life hanging by a thin thread in his single index finger. If that finger closes in just a bit more, his muzzle could be crushed. The giant seems either confident in his handling, or he intends to show the small dragon his incomprehensible strength.

“Well, Sam? Oscar? You found it, you get to name the monster.” That cocky smirk is on the giant's face now as his eyes glint down to his pocket then over to his shoulder.

Sam is up there on the shoulder like that's normal and folds his arms. Dean can just barely make out the move from where his head is forced to look. “We should at least make sure it's ok, before we do anything else. It probably already has a name, or something. Its legs are bandaged up.”

The giant finally lets go of Dean's muzzle, letting it open mouth pant and slowly droop back down. The finger then prods Dean's side, making the dragon half shuffle half slide onto his good side to reveal the two bound legs he was trying to hide from view. A flick of a thumb folds up his wing out of the way next. Fuck.

“And you say you just found it in the next room?”

Oscar pipes up from the pocket. “Yeah, I was trying to find the source of that weird feeling. The room next door isn't one from my hotel. It's... strange. I've never seen it before.”

Giant Dean looks to the wall conjoining his room with the one Dean's family is in. Dean's gaze shoots there as well in renewed panic and anger. He musters up what's left of his energy and gets back to his shaky feet, hobbles closer to the wall. 'Sam! I'm in trouble!' He roars as loud as he can but it comes out raspy and broken. The giant stops his mad dash before he's gotten a foot away.

“Not so fast little buddy, you're in no shape to move.” Dean murmurs and two hands are on either side of him now. Propping him up before pinning him in place. His wings splayed out and attempted to fly but the fingers spread out just a bit farther, and force his wings closed again.

'No! Stop! Sam! _Sam please help_!' Dean calls out, starts _howling_ , _**'Saaamm!!!'**_

He realizes his mistake when the huge hands loosen around him. He hears pained screams from the smaller people. Dean looks up to see Sam clutch at his head along with Oscar who's fallen down into the pocket, crying out themselves.

His horrified gaze lands on the giant version of himself who only winced at the howl and now has a _pissed_ off look in his face. Oh fuck. If this Dean is anything like him, and he just hurt his little brother. Fuckfuck it's all over. Dean winces, waiting for the hands to come together and crush him into a little ball. Killing him instantly for hurting Sam. Truthfully, Dean was upset for hurting Sam and Oscar as well, but he's scared shitless right now. He just forgot that dragon howls hurt human's ears. He'd only done it once before, and saw how much it hurt Sam, Cas, Bobby and Balth. He'd told himself _never_ to howl again. Something in his howl resonates with human's ears in a very bad way. He could have made these little guys deaf!

'I'm sorry,I'm sorry,I'm sorry.' He continuously pants out, eyes pleading, curling in on himself. The dangerous hands looked like they were poised to attack, to close in all the way, squeeze the life out of this nuisance. But they stopped. Frozen in place and even opened a bit. Dean looks up unwilling and finally hears little Sam talking to the giant like equals. Maybe they're brothers in this world too? But that doesn't seem right, why the hell would Sam be little? But there it is, Sam is pushing insistently on the giant neck to his side.

“- see? He's scared, Dean. We haven't exactly been nice to him and he probably feels threatened!”

The giant turns his head to the side a little, eyes searching out his tiny passenger. “You said he growled at both of you earlier.” The voice is deadly low and growling itself. “Flashed his teeth. Just now, tried to make you deaf!”

“But he's scared! What would you do in his situation?” Sam jerked a hand down to Dean.

The giant's huff passed over the dragon in his hands. The scent of anger heavy in the air. “First of all, I wouldn't have tried chasing some poor defenseless kid.” He rumbled and shot a look down at his pocket. “No offense, Oz.”

A tiny voice drifted up from it's depths. “None taken.”

A half smirk formed on the giant lips before leveling dangerously on Dean again. “So what do we do with it?”

Oscar lifted his hands to the pockets edge and hoisted himself up to see again. Now that the howl had stopped for good. “I, I think we should help it.”

Both Sam and giant Dean look down incredulously. “Come again?”

Oscar shrugged as much as he could while still clinging to the rim of the pocket. Too short to stand and see over without holding onto the rim. “I don't think he m, meant to harm us. And I did uh, I did go into his room first. Take some of his food.”

The giant asked a bit calmer, quieter, “Why'd you do that? You know we could have gotten you any food you want to stock your pantry.”

Oscar looked sheepish. “Habit? I saw the food and I dunno, wanted to check it out.” The voice coming out timid, “They had M&M's.” Like that was all the reason he needed. Tiny Sam chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, I can see risking your life for that.”

Dean finally got his breathing under control now that the hands were loosening their grip around him. Getting his head on a little straighter, at least, enough to look up and ask, 'You'd risk your life for chocolate?'

The giant Dean ignored the meek warble from the monster in-between his hands, and looked at Sam just as incredulously. “You'd risk your life for chocolate?”

Sam shrugged. “Before I met you again last year, what did you think I did for food?” Sam shot back. “13 years of foraging in hotel rooms for crumbs and scraps, you think I wouldn't go after chocolate if I had the chance?”

The giant head bobbled a bit, “I suppose. You had to do what you had to to stay alive. Every meal you hunted down was life risking. But _Oz_ , you could have just asked.”

Oscar shrunk down a bit more into the pocket. “Sorry?”

The giant's sigh blew over Dean's head. “It's fine.” He said eventually, and looked back down at Dean in his hands. “Still doesn't answer the question what we do with it.”

Dean felt all three staring at him. His life was in their hands. Vision swimming even more and before he could come up with a plea or suggestion, he was out. _Again_. Bravo Winchester, just pass out in enemy territory.

 

 

Oscar saw the poor thing go limp. Wings drooping to its sides. “I think you made it pass out.”

Dean's brows lifted. “I didn't mean to hurt it!” His thumb came up to the side and lifted the limp wing up and out a bit, and sure enough, it was out like a light. “Did it die?” He could feel his brother leap into action, half sliding, half climbing down his arm for a closer look. “Hang on Half Pint, it might be faking it.” Dean wiggled his elbow Sam was on to make his brother halt his decent and clutch to the fabric or risk falling.

“Jerk!” Sam shot up once he regained his balance, inches away from the monster. He saw the request in his brother's eyes and sighed irritably. “Fine.” Climbing back up to the shoulder before Dean was moving again.

Dean had no idea what to do here. Never expecting a tiny little monster to just show up inside the walls of Oscar's hotel. And what was up with that room? His gaze lingered on the wall. He'll have to investigate it once he's tended to this thing. He was gentle when he cupped his hands underneath it. Feeling its slight weight and how it didn't even move a muscle with the jostling.

“Ya know, it kind of looks like... I can't believe I'm actually saying this. It looks like a dragon.”

“What?” He got from both of his passengers.

“A dragon. But like, _tiny_. Maybe there's such things as dragons but they weren't as big as the old myths said?”

Sam watched from Dean's shoulder as his brother carefully lifted it up from the floor, and slowly moved it to the table. Setting it down in a clear spot, near the center, and moving all their things off of the table and onto the bed. Dean's voice sounded thoughtful, “Is it like a, I dunno, a baby dragon?”

Oscar's eyes went wide and he felt even more sorry for it. “We hurt a _baby_?” his eyes felt hot before a few tears fell down. “I can't believe we hurt a _tiny baby_!”

Sam looked down to Oscar then the thing on the table. Shit. Did they just kill a baby monster? Did they accidentally lure it away from its family? Scare it half to death then injure it further when it's just trying to get back to its Mama? Great, now Oscar's not the only one about to cry. Sam sniffled into his sleeve. Shit. That settles it. They need to save this poor thing right now if it's still alive. “Dean, we have to help it.”

Dean heard the watery voice come from his shoulder and great. Now his little bro is part of the 'save the dangerous spiky monster' team. Awesome. Two against one. Not fair. He sighed heavily and assessed the injuries. It wasn't exactly helpful to see that the baby whatever-it-is, was already injured before they got to it. Making matters worse in his handling of the thing and the idea that he was seconds from killing it for hurting his brother and friend. But Sam and Oz were right. It was acting in self defense and when it saw that it was hurting the little guys, it stopped and begged for its life. He didn't have to speak dragon to see that.

Still. They can't let their guard down around it. The others are calling it tiny but it still towers over them both. If it were healthy, it might have killed them, hell, eaten them. Still could. The main problem is, is that _they_ _don't know_. But they wont know anything if it dies here. Dean doesn't kill needlessly and sometimes even monsters can have a bad day. Doesn't make them _evil_. Lashing out is actually a pretty reasonable response to what it thought was happening to it. Stupid little thing. Should have just stayed in its room. Of course, the other end of that conclusion means that if it is harmful, then it's a good thing they got to it first before it had a chance to attack anyone else in the motel. Some innocent civilian that never heard of the supernatural world. Dean just has to take precautions. For all potential outcomes from this chance meeting.

“It has wings and tried to fly, so we should take care to make sure it doesn't take off the second the door's opened.” He waited along with the others to see what the thing would do but it just laid there on the table. Totally out. Even when Dean lightly pinched the injured hand.

Dean sat down after bringing over his medical kit. “Whatever it is, we wont know anything more about it if it dies. so...” He started to unwrap the bandage. Sam shooed him away and motioned for Oscar to help. Since they were closer to it's size, they had a better chance at tending to the wound. “Someone splinted its hind leg. Must have been broken. These dressings are too cumbersome to be made by people our size. A human did this.”

Dean decided not to take offense. It was true, there was no way he would be able to bandage up his little brother better then someone their size. It helped ease his mind at that as well, seeing as how another dragon probably wouldn't have the capabilities to wrap up a wound like that. Animals would just lick it clean and hope for the best. He watched his brother console the thing, as if it could still hear him. Talking it through what Sam and Oscar were doing. Oscar more or less hung back out of fear but that's to be expected. The thing was six inches tall so it would seem to be like 8 feet tall to them. At least. He thought about if they kept the thing, if they could train it to give them rides. Like a horse.

Dean chuckled suddenly. “We have here, a dragon at the Knights Inn.”

Sam shot a look up and then shook his head fondly. “Wonder if that's why this little guy came here. He missed home.”

Oscar looked lost.

Dean reiterated, “Knights inn? Dragons? Medieval times?” He got back more confusion in those brown eyes under that mess of brown hair. “Oz.” Dean held back a smirk. “Tell me you know what knights fought in yee olden age?” Oz shrugged and Dean had to laugh. “Ok, movie night. We are watching Dragonheart.”

Sam rolled his eyes. The movie title going right over his head but he could surmise what it was about. “Dean? Can you cut me up some strips of gauze? And I need some water to wash this wound out. It doesn't look that bad now... But he did loose a fair amount of blood. We will have to keep an eye on him, get some food and water. What do dragons need to survive?”

Dean shrugged. “Gold, silver and virgin sacrifices.” Eyes darting down. “Shit. Guys? You ever uh... ever, ya know? With someone...” fingers waving about abstractly.

Sam figured it out and flushed red. Dean was not talking about gold or silver from that list... Oscar looked confused but caught on and was even more red, damn near purple. Dean rubbed a hand down his face. “Awesome.”

“It's not like we had time to hook up with anyone while struggling to survive!” Sam shot up with a slight squeak in his voice.

Dean lifted his hands, placating, and sobered up. “You're absolutely right. Sorry.” He left it alone for 2.4 seconds. “I mean though,” Sam sighed aggressively, he went ignored. “Oz, Oscar, my main man. I know Sam here has no style or class, but surely you -” he let it hang. The flush on his friend's face shut him up again. “You're right. None of my business.”

Oscar ducked his head down and tried to keep himself from running away in embarrassment. Sam nudged him with an elbow when he got closer to do so without his big brother's notice. “It's fine. He doesn't mean anything by it.” He mumbled too quiet for Dean to hear.

Oscar shrugged it off, knowing he wasn't about to be the butt end of a joke. One day he hopes to get enough courage to talk to the people on the other side of the hotel. Maybe find someone to settle down with...

The monster groaned a little causing them to back up a few steps before its brow furrowed and it let out a puff of bad smelling breath. Both of them coughing in it.

“What is it? Sulfur?” Dean asked, taking a whiff of it but the quantity must be too small for him, but enough to make the little guys cough.

“No. I don't know what it is.” Sam manages, holding his sleeve to his nose and waiting for it to dissipate. Dean helps it along with a notepad acting like a fan. Both of them on the table feeling the pulse of air throb back and forth till they can breath fresh air again.

They get back to work and Dean starts pacing back and forth. Hating that he can't be much more help besides standing guard. “Any theories where he came from? Oz, you said you felt it first. Sammy and I were dead asleep.”

Oscar piped up, “Yeah. The whole air felt, like different inside the walls. The pressure thumped in the tight spaces between the rooms and I was drawn to that room. I don't know if I would have felt anything if I'd been at home.”

Sam took another cotton swab and moistened it, rubbing off more of the dried blood around the healing wound. “I agree, it felt like, _odd_. The nearer I went to that room... but I hadn't seen it for myself. This thing was blocking the way. I suppose there's nothing stopping us from checking it out.”

Dean stiffened. “No way. Not until we figure out if this thing is dangerous. I don't want you two anywhere near a mystery room that has tiny dragons in it.” Folding his arms over his chest.

“Dean. We have to find out what's going on. Once we get this thing re-bandaged, we can all go take a look. Use the main door instead of the wall entrance. That way you don't miss out on all the fun.” Sam sent a grin up.

Oscar took the bloodied swab away, adding it to the pile and getting another ready for Sam just in case. He, along with all borrowers, had to know first aid since they lived mostly solitary lives. If a wound was infected, they ran the risk of dying. Either little or no medicine to combat the infections. So, making sure any wound was clear of contaminates and wrapped with sanitary bandages was the epitome of necessity. With the Winchesters around, this poor baby thing was in the best care around. He traced the bones in the thick scaled arm along the tabletop. Making sure there were no new breaks. It all seemed to be fine, but the cut looked ragged. Sam dabbed another chunk of cotton from the swab in water and cleared away the crusted old scab. Gently pulling the skin and scales closer together. If only it were normal skin, he could have stitched it together... wait. Under the scales was a thin membrane that was close to human skin. He rummaged in his pack and grinned when he found his trusty thick needle, sanitizing it with the cup of alcohol that Dean set down, he threading it with his strongest fibers. Sam had Oscar hold the wound as closed as possible, and stitched it up with wide loops first, to help keep it together, then went over it again with better placed stitches. Hopefully, the fibers wont impede the healing process and after time, they will simply absorb into the skin, or fall off. If they still own this thing, they can pull the stitches out after it's healed up.

Dean was leaning over as they worked away, impressed with his brother and friend's abilities. It looked as though the arm was clean enough for the new bandage. He nudged the thin white strips of gauze closer to the two. The pang of guilt in his chest refusing to let up. He'd did this to the poor thing. Maybe not all of it, but he certainly didn't help.

Oscar hovered another lump of wet cotton after setting the arm down. Sam saw the indecision in his friend's eyes and said, “I don't need another wet one, can I have one with a dab of antibiotics?” looking up to Dean next.

“Sammy, we don't know if that will help or hurt it.” Dean reminded. “It isn't exactly a monster we know anything about.” He went back to pacing the room, listening for any movement in the one next door.

Sam bit his lip. “I suppose you're right. Ok, dry bit of swab then. We will re-wrap it up tight enough so that the bandage wont come loose on it's own, but have the thing able to take it off if it wants.” Sam looked over his work, the blood stopped and it didn't look to be in danger of reopening again. He rested his hand on the thing's forehead, stroking it down to the side fan ears, rubbing at the base as one would for a dog or cat. The scales were more pliable there, helping it make some facial expressions. He then trailed his fingers down the long muzzle and stroked the spot beneath the nostril ridge and above the lips, right in front where it actually seemed to relax in its sleep. It likes that spot. Sam grinned a bit fondly at it, wordlessly encouraging Oscar to pet its head as well. Sam stood up, stretching out his stiff legs and walking alongside the rat sized thing. “It's hard to tell if it's a boy or girl monster.”

Dean made a hmm? sound in question, pausing his pace to lean forward. “Yeah, nothing there. Maybe they don't have genders? Or even Mommies or Daddies? Maybe... I dunno, never born in the traditional way? Like the first sprites like Nixie? Or, I dunno, Immortal?”

“It looks anything but immortal.” Sam frowned at the sad state their guest was in. With Oscar's help, they started wrapping up the large front limb in the fresh white gauze now that they were sure it was no longer going to bleed. “I'm glad it's sleeping better.” Sam commented as they worked to wrap the forearm.

“Me too.” Oscar said, sniffling back tears. He'd feel just awful if he was somehow the reason this thing died. Oscar and Sam made a great team as they worked. Making sure the bandage was tight, but not cutting off circulation. Both of them finished and stood back. With it laying down, they were taller then it by an inch or so, petting along the little guys head and neck. Oscar hugged the side of the torso with no small amount of affection. The more he watched it sleep, the more he thought of it as a future friend or pet. Secretly hoping they will gain its trust enough to keep it safe with them, away from the big scary world that had hurt it in the first place. The poor thing was just scared, hurt, and lonely.

Dean grinned despite himself. Sam and Oz were petting the little guy like it was a baby puppy pet. Albeit, a winged, fanged, horned, and sharp puppy-like pet, but a baby nonetheless. He reached forward tentatively, and with his index finger, traced along the spine again. “It is pretty adorable.” He admitted quietly. “When it's not trying to eat you two.” chiding and using his thumb to nudge at Sam's side.

Sam rolled his eyes and batted at the huge hand that hovered overhead. “We still got work to do.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How you guys like it so far?  
> Added some fluffy Oscar moments in there. More to come in the future too because fuck yea Oscar would want a pet dragon!


	3. And Time Doesn't Wait For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds a way to communicate with Dean. Their chat raises more questions then answers.

Chapter Three:

And Time Doesn't Wait For Me

 

 

 

Now finished with the foreleg, they moved on to rewrap the hind leg. Dean had to scrounge around for some quetips to replace the dirt and blood stained old ones. The old setup seemed to work for the little bugger before the whole wall fiasco. The fluffy ends likely helping with shock absorption with every step it took. At least the hind leg looked like it was in better shape then the foreleg. No fresh blood or broken bones. In fact, the bones seemed healed, but, better not risk leaving it in the old dirty bandages and with potentially contaminated skin underneath from all of it's shuffling while buried. Some debris might have slipped inside the wrappings. In either case, it made Dean feel better to know and see for himself what the wounds looked like and if they were healing properly. Chances were, the people who wrapped up the legs were human sized, and not very adept at working at this small scale. Thankful for Sam and Oz knowing how to bind wounds and splint limbs. Even if its on this baby _dragon_. The internal structure could only be guessed at, so working on it must take time instead of being too hasty.

Dean hated not being able to help much beyond getting the supplies ready for them so they didn't have to use their small knives to cut the long strips of gauze, or trek across the room to get clean water or cotton swabs. Playing the role of a nurse to the tiny doctors. His eyes strayed to the mystery wall more then once. What did Oz mean when he said that the other room didn't belong in his hotel?

“So Oz, what did the room look like? You said it was weird. But, weird _how_.”

Oscar mused on how to answer as he tugged the gauze under the hind leg of the monster making it flush with its scaled skin, and handed it over to Sam to wrap under again. Once they'd gotten the first fresh layers down, they added the new clean quetips and with Dean's help holding it up, bound it in place along the leg on the inside and parallel on the outside. The moves becoming hypnotic. “W-well, for one thing, it isn't from this hotel.”

“Come again?” Dean sat at the chair to hear them better.

Oscar shrugged, not quite ready to elaborate just yet. Dean knew to let Oz collect his thoughts since it was apparent that the other room was freaking the littlest one out, and Oz would want to compose himself first before being interrogated.

Sam waved for Dean's assistance in the next step, and directed his hand closer. “Can you lift up its leg?” Dean nodded and his fingers stretched forward to simply hold the end of the leg up as they wrapped it up, adjusting the quetips over and over again, so one side wouldn't stick out longer then the other, and make the poor thing lopsided. If it wasn't perfect, they could end up doing more harm then good.

“Dean,” Sam frowned, looking at the leg and the uninjured one. “Can you lift the whole thing up as if it's standing on its own? I can't tell how his leg usually bends.”

Dean nodded, and thread his fingers under the belly, folding up the wings to its side. Sam lifted up the long heavy head and set it on Dean's thumb. Then went around, and adjusted the legs here and there, Dean tilting the body this way and that so that all the legs were touching the tabletop but not supporting any weight. He could just faintly feel the tiny heartbeat and the chest moving with the breaths. Steady and less labored. Hopefully once they get this little guy some food, it will heal up just fine.

Sam had Oscar hold the leg somewhat up while he adjusted the quetips one last time, tightening up the bindings so that they stayed put once they set it down again. “I think it has bowlegs.” He chuckled at the sight of how the knees bent out from the body. It wasn't obvious before since the knees were probably tucked up next to its sides. But it hanging there being supported by Dean's fingers meant that the legs could fall naturally, and it was definitely bowlegged. “Just like someone else I know.” Sam chided and looked up at Dean who flushed a little. He wiggled the dragon body to get his little brothers attention back to the matter _literally_ at hand.

Sam smirked and brought over the last wide strip of gauze, having Oscar sit on the outside of the leg while Dean lifted the body up a hair more so that Sam could sit underneath, and together they wrapped up the leg into the most natural position possible for it. Then tucking the end of the gauze into its folds. Making sure that it wasn't too tight and that the baby could pull it off when it's ready to come off.

Getting the go-ahead, Dean let the baby down again. Only afterwards thinking about how it would probably appreciate having some kind of padding underneath to sleep on, instead of the hard unforgiving table. He reluctantly left his brother and Oz on the table with it, alone, as he quickly fetched a clean shirt for the thing to lay in. Forming it into a rudimentary nest for the baby. Setting it down in the middle, slow and easy. It shifted ever so slightly in its sleep. Nuzzling into the shirts warmth. “I think it's cold.” Dean commented and watched Sam shift foot to foot before visually saying, 'hell with it,' and climbed up into the shirt nest as well, leaning against the dragon's good side. It was about the size of a juvenile elephant to him, so he wasn't worried about hurting the poor thing with his slight weight leaning against it. It seemed to relax further, mumbling something under it's breath like it was actually saying something. Sniffing the air noisily so Sam reached over and had it sniff his hand. It hummed, pleased, and actually gave it a quick nuzzle. Sam's fingers patting the bridge of the long nose before it relaxed again, wiggling into a more comfortable position.

“Dean. Oh man. The baby's got so many freckles.... this thing is just cute. ” Sam admitted while petting the foreleg. “Once you get over how it looks, it's pretty sweet.”

“Sure, sweet.” Dean rolled his eyes, but was amused to see that Oz was clambering up the nest as well to lean against its front half, right between the forelegs, to pet along the long neck that curled around. The dragon purred brokenly for a moment before sighing contentedly.

“Damn it. Did we just get a pet?”

Sam's grin widened even further. Stroking along the wing that came up next to cover Sam's legs. “Gotta admit, having our own dragon might come in handy.” Sam went for practicalities but Dean saw right through it. “It could act like my own mighty steed, riding it into battle one day. Or, teach it to be a watchdog. It's intelligent so it would be a piece of cake to train.”

“Better look out Pint size, looks like you'll have to wrestle Oz for ownership of that walking pincushion.”

Oscar blushed, “I – I don't know if I could take care of it... I can barely take care of myself some days.” He admitted quietly, and it was true, finding food for this thing might not be possible. “Or, I don't know, maybe it will do its own hunting? Probably eats insects... oh no, or _mice_.” Oscar looked frightened. “I better not, I know all of the mice here. I don't want to see them get eaten!” He was shifting nervously now, hand stuttering its stroking of the long neck that had wrapped around him, pinning his legs down without much pressure. It can't be blamed for being what it is, eating what it has to. “I just want it to have a good home.”

“We'll take care of that.” Dean said, resting his chin on his folded arms at the table to be more at their eye level. “I'm guessing it's not a vegetarian, going by the fangs... I should order some food for it, and us.” He announced and leaned back in the chair to pull out his cell. He fished out the hotel's information sheet listing the services they provide and ordered up a rare steak from the kitchen. He will go and pick it up so they don't have to worry about hiding everyone if it's delivered to the room. Since it was a rare steak, it would be done in no time. He finished up the call and flipped his phone shut again. His attention once again going to the room next door. In their own, there was the TV console and dresser to support it alongside the wall.

Oscar noticed the focus of his giant friend shift and followed the gaze. Now that things were calm and quiet, he felt better about telling more details from his harrowing adventure. “That room... I've lived here my whole life, and I'd never seen that room before. The window is in the wrong place. The beds... everything is _wrong_. At first glance, I thought that the guests changed the beds and furniture around, but as I was leaving I realized that the wallpaper and the room divider were different too. The entrance I took into the room was a vent, which isn't unusual, but it's a vent that changed air flow _halfway_ down. Today, it was blowing warm air into the strange room. And that room felt a bit chilly. But you know as well as I do that its _summer_ outside. No one in their right mind would heat up their room on purpose. It felt like, I dunno, like it was late winter or early spring in that room and they were trying to warm it up.”

Sam nodded. Surprised that he didn't make the connection when the air leaked past the monster's obstruction. It did feel naturally cooler in that direction. The air current had shifted weirdly in the middle of the walls. Warm air coming from nowhere and going to the room, while the air conditioners were running in all of the other rooms they'd heard people in. Sam was just more preoccupied with the creature to notice the air flow. “Can you tell us more about the humans in the room?”

Oscar shrugged. “I didn't get a close look at either one from my spot on the floor or the table. I'm sure they were both men though, going by the shoes. There was a book on the floor between the beds... um. The TV... it was...”

“What?” Dean gently prodded.

“ _F_ _lat_. It was like, flat and _hung on the wall_. I never saw anything like it.”

“Wow. Uh, I guess some hotels can afford flat TV's.” Sam shrugged. “But none that we've ever been to. That's like Ritz quality.”

Dean nodded. “Flat TV's are thousands of dollars. I doubt a random hotel would buy one for a room. That's like, asking for it to be stolen.” He saw Oz shrug and gesture helplessly to the room next door. He raised an eyebrow. Ok, so if there is one over there, they would just have to check it out. “Did you see anything else good?”

Oscar frowned up at his gigantic friend. “You're going to _steal_ from them?”

Dean smirked a bit. “Hey, if mysterious hotel rooms pop up where they don't belong and set loose these kinds of monsters on unsuspecting borrowers, they _deserve_ to get robbed. So, anything else?” he saw the reproachful looks from them and changed course, “And I don't mean to steal, any hint or clue might help us identify what kind of place Pokey Pete came from.”

Oscar considered that reasoning for the questions. “The computer was very thin as well. Less then an inch thick! It was next to the bag of M&M's and the trail mix bag.” He pulled out his prized chocolate and looked at the bulky shape. Sam handed over his knife for Oscar's use to cut it open so they could enjoy the chocolate. Oscar had to chip away at it and Dean was about to ask if he needed help but the knife slid through and something crunched on the inside.

“What the hell?” Sam asked, looking at the candy coated chocolate to find... a pretzel inside. “Where did this come from?” Sam peeled away the chocolate and yup. Pretzel. “This is getting weirder and weirder.” Tasting the chocolate and finding that was a bit different as well. “It's like there's less cocoa and more sugar. It's subtle, but there.”

“Ok, so we got flat TV's, super thin laptops, and M&M's that don't exist, except for the fact that it does... there's the white 'M' on top. Alternate universe? Or, worm hole into another dimension?” Dean pondered. “Oh we have _got_ to check this place out.” He stole one of the M &M's and yup. Pretzels don't belong in there. “Heathens.” Dean frowned. Already getting up from his seat to fetch a Snickers to give to Oz instead of that vile M&M. “Something worth eating.” He broke off a chunk small enough to fit into Oz's small cloth bag, and then more chunks for him to tote back home later. Oz accepted it and dutifully packed it away while eating the chocolate from around the pretzel. He's not a picky eater.

Sam finished up his chocolate chunk and got back to work. It took a minute to get free of the dragon's wing and Dean was no help at all, amused at how much the dragon was wrapped around him. Cuddling him like a teddy bear. Sam slid out from underneath, feet first, and fixed up his mussed hair, glaring at Dean for the muffled chuckles. Then waved off his brother to go get the food from the kitchen and leave them be.

Dean stood to his full height and watched the dragon and the others on the table for a moment, worried about leaving them alone. “Did you two want to stay here or come with me?”

Sam looked at it sleeping peacefully. “I think we're good for a few minutes. If it tries to hurt us, I'll uh, I'll handle it.” Sam said and pulled his knife out, hating how he might need to use it on the thing. He was pretty sure it wouldn't come to that. The thing was still out, even after all that jostling. “Longer you wait, the more likely it is that he'll wake up when you're gone.” Sam shoo-ed his brother off again and Oscar waved shyly.

Dean nodded and leaned forward, using a corner of the shirt's sleeve to cover up its wings so it'd take a few extra moments to get free of it before it flew anywhere. Then checked his wallet and watch and left the room. The heavy boots thumping along the walkway outside and away.

Sam went back to the supplies left out on the table and used the remaining wet cotton swab to wipe off some of the plaster dust from the long face. It looked so peaceful while it's asleep. Dean was only gone for 6 and a half minutes. Back before they even had a chance to miss him.

Dean set the container onto the table and pulled out the plastic knife and fork, getting the food set up for the little thing. He gave up on the stupid plastic cutlery and used his knife to cut it up into bite sized pieces. Barely cooked blood dripped and oozed from the chunks of meat and Oscar felt a little sick at the sight of it. He got up from sitting next to the dragon's front to stand off to the other side of the table. Far away from the food but trying to make it look like he's not bothered by it all that much. The animal that meat came from was _huge_. He'd never seen a cow in person, but from TV, he knew that they could be five feet tall! And at least 600 lbs! He couldn't even imagine something living being that big. Knowing of course that there were living things far larger then a cow, but having a hard time picturing it. And humans ate them all the time.

Oscar wasn't necessarily a vegetarian, but he hadn't really seen steaks up close before. This slab of still mostly red meat was far larger then both him and Sam combined, and larger then the dragon who slept on, oblivious to the great feast procured just for him. Dean waved a meaty cube in front of the nose and it barely got a twitch.

Dean sighed. Ok, they'll have to wait till it's actually awake to feed it. Slumping back in his seat, the meat stayed put under its nose. The dragon, still asleep, sniffed some more, gaining interest and growled low in its throat. Dean's hand went forward in a protective motion and nudged Sam free from its space. Oz was already clear of it, actually stepping closer to inspect what was going on. Dean was mightily tempted to pick them both up and away from it. The dragon was still mostly out of it, but that didn't stop it from sleep eating.

“Huh.” Dean huffed and smirked. “That works.” Watching the dragon chew slowly and swallow. The large lump working its way down the long neck. It grimaced as it kept on swallowing till the food finally reached its stomach. Letting out a sigh of relief from the strain. Dean cut up the next chunk into smaller pieces and that was received just as enthusiastically. Eager sniffs of the meat, a long lick, and a rumbling purr coming from it as it swallowed the next chunks, one after the other, and licked at the drops of blood soaked into the shirt. Tiny whines for the lack of food had Dean cut up more and shove them forward. It ate its fill and finally sighed deeply, curling back into itself before slipping back into the deep sleep. No one made a sound as they watched it for another minute to make sure it was fully sleeping.

Sam broke the silence, “I wonder if we could get some answers from it. It seemed intelligent earlier. It knows English, that's for sure. It answered a couple of my questions with head nods and shakes.” Sam crept forward again and started stroking the wing closest. “I think it would be a good companion animal.”

“Hmm...” Dean could see the puppy dog eyes from where he was sitting. Reading him like a book. “Ok, Sammy. We can keep it.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You're litter training it.”

Sam fluctuated between excitement for getting a pet, and fear at the fact that his pet has so very many sharp bits. At least it didn't seem _homicidal_ before. Just 'grumpy'. And it appeared to like him already... at least when it's asleep... “We should probably find out if it's already claimed. Or, as smart as we are. It might not like being owned any more then we would like being held captive by a human.”

Oscar shivered and frowned up at Dean. That old fear sometimes making itself known, if Dean really wanted to, there was nothing stopping the human from keeping all of them in a cage for his amusement. Knowing he'd never do that didn't mean that basic fear instinct would go away. Oscar needed to watch out for humans, this one was safe, but he proved before that accidents do happen, and Oscar might end up in trouble just because Dean is a big human.

“We -we should see if it's alright to keep it.” Oscar wrung his hands in the strap of his bag. He had some mice friends that seemed intelligent, but it was a different kind of intelligence. People wouldn't believe him when he said that they were his friends more then pets. Still, this little one did show more feelings, and consideration, than base instinct. Remorse for howling and hurting their ears, cooperation when getting free of the debris in the walls, appreciation when it purred after getting the food, and cuddling with them carefully. If it was a dumb animal, it wouldn't care about other people's feelings.

Dean's voice rumbled overhead. He had consider all sides. “It's not human or even human-like, though. It's not like any kind of animal we've seen so far, besides the asshole ones in storytale books. Whatever this thing is, it's definitely not normal.” Dean stated, inching a finger closer to lift up a wing. The little beast felt the warmth of the finger and leaned into it a little. Dropping his suspicion like a bag of rocks. “Awwww. I think it likes me.” Dean cooed and wrapped his hand around the body more fully. “Yeah, it must be cold blooded, it's a lot like a reptile. Probably eats bugs since it's too small to take down anything much bigger. Could teach it to rid the walls of cockroaches and spiders and shit. Hey Oz, did you need a guard dog?”

“Me?! No!” Oscar backed up from it as if it would wake and attack. “I'm fine with my mice friends. It's alright, you guys take it. I wouldn't know the first thing about creature care.”

Sam agreed to a point. It was true that they dealt with weird on a daily basis, but this was unprecedented. Usually strange monsters want to kill them if they have fangs and claws. “Well, we gotta figure _something_ out before it wakes up.”

Dean found himself flip flopping his opinion of the thing. It's cute, but dangerous. Treat it with respect, or suspicion. Keep it, let it go. Fuck. Why was this so hard? He looked around the room. Nothing was really springing to mind. He looked the little thing over, they didn't want to bind its legs and wings down, that might send it into a panic trying to untangle itself. So, a leash might be in order. Something it can't just chew through. “I think I could get some wire, make a collar... use a thin metal chain like a necklace for a leash...”

Oscar frowned a bit in sympathy. “You're going to tie it up?”

“Have to. We don't know if it didn't attack because it's nice, or if it was just too tired to. I'm not risking your safety on wishes, hopes and dreams that it isn't violent. I mean, look at it.” Dean said but even as he did, he was petting the back of it, next to the ridge of spikes. “I have some silver chain that we can use for the lead. Just need some wire to bend for the collar. The wire from a coat hanger aughta do it.” Dean gingerly moved the tiny body away from his hand where it had actually started cuddling, holding onto one of his fingers that was about the same size as its hind leg. The little thing snuggled back into the t-shirt with an annoyed huff at loosing his heater.

Dean kept looking back at the table towards his brother, and small friend, and then their strange 'house guest'. Making sure they were still safe as he got out the wire cutters and pliers from his weapons bag. Going to the closet to grab a hanger and snipped off a couple inches of metal before bending it into shape. Curving in the sharp edge of metal into itself so it wouldn't harm the little beast. Bending it open again, testing its tensile strength.

Dean came over and said, “Hold his head up?” Sam went over to it and the head was as big as his whole torso, long and cumbersome so Oscar shook out his nerves and helped Sam out. Dean wrapped the metal around the long spiked neck at the base where it was thickest so it will rest comfortably against its chest and not choke it. He figured that the collar would likely hang up on the spikes, making it that much harder for the dragon to take it off by slipping it back over his head. With the pliers, he cinched it up so that it could still breath and move around without feeling too restricted. All too often, he would see dogs with their collars far too tight. Should be able to have a full hand fit easily between the dogs neck and the inside of the collar. Anything less is cruel.

Dean used the pliers to carefully overlapped the ends of the wire so when the makeshift leash is attached, it couldn't be slipped off of the collar where the ends came together. He found a silver chain easily enough with the weapons, and brought it over. Some bling for their dragon. It might like it. But when the silver plated necklace grazed by the thing's hand, it started to sizzle and _burn its skin,_ shocking Dean and the others. He had no idea that silver would burn it! Aren't dragons supposed to _love_ silver and gold? Would gold burn it too? All those thoughts flashing through his head the same instant it woke up yowling in pain, thrashing backwards from the silver.

Dean jerked the necklace away from the dragon and dropped it a second later. Instantly grabbing Sam and Oz in a protective fist and pulling it closer to himself, and held out his other one towards the thrashing animal to keep the thing at bay. It hissed in continued pain at the burn mark, that wasn't big or too visually damaging, but it must hurt like a bitch. So, _monster_ then. Half of the monsters out there can't stand silver, but Dean never thought that something that looked like a dragon would be burned by that metal. Maybe the myths were all wrong. What the hell was it?

Sam was shoving at his fingers and he felt Oz trembling like crazy. “Hang on, guys.” Dean said quietly and studied the thing on the table. “Calm down there, Buddy. I'm not gonna hurt you.”

 

Dean's wrist _burned_. The scent of silver heavy in the air made him sick to his stomach. Which, oddly enough, was full. He had only a second to ponder why when he heard the gigantic version of his human self moving nearby. The other younger and much more human Dean was holding something in his fist close to his chest and the other hand was coming towards him. Dean knew that this guy was undeniably a Hunter, and he had no chance of surviving if his other self laid a hand on him. He had to get away. His body didn't want to cooperate though, and his wings were slow to open and flap. His energy was nearly gone. There was no way he'd be able to fight against _himself._

He hated to do it, but had no choice. They'd just burned him with silver, there was no telling what they planned on doing next. 'Please... don't kill me. I just want to go back.' He looked behind himself, the table's edge right there. He could probably glide down at least and then make a break for it back to that hole in the wall. His other self was apparently smarter and faster. Dean found himself snatched up in a fist as big as he was. Lifting away from the table too fast to plan an escape. He had to fight hard to keep from biting and clawing at the Hunter in his panic. That would invoke instant death. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Fucked.

Dean's good hand was free and he lifted it up, hoping that this Dean at least knew basic sign language.

His fingers flew quickly, forming out the first word, or rather name, to come to mind. Repeating it. 'Dean'.

 

Dean squinted at it. Its little clawed toes moving around in a funny way. “Sammy? What's it doing?” He realized the fist he held the other two in was too tight, so he loosened it up enough for both to wiggle their way up to look out. Standing side by side on his curled pinky finger while the index and thumb made a circular rail around them. A look of apology in his eyes for the previous tight confinement. Oz was ruffled moreso than Sam, unused to this kind of fast movements, as he clutched onto the nearest finger for dear life. Sam was practically a veteran. Finding his balance easily enough and leaning forward to look at the creature in Dean's other fist. The thing was slightly larger then the hand, exposing everything from its shoulders up, over the top, and underneath the curled fist hung the long tail and the bound leg. It was unable to bend it up to kick alongside the good leg. Dean adjusted his fingers around the thing to keep its injuries free of the confinement, but closed again when it tried to climb up and out. It whimpered again and went back to wiggling its fore-claws at them. Chirping in earnest.

Dean couldn't make sense of it, “It's moving it's hand.”

Sam's eyebrows shot up. “That's sign language!”

Dean made an impressed noise. “What's it saying?”

“I don't know.” Sam said a bit annoyed. “Where the hell would I learn sign language.”

“Then how do you know that's what this is.”

“What else could it be?”

“Showing us how it flips a coin on its knuckles, signaling to hidden cameras, gang symbols, who the hell knows.”

“Of course, the dragon clan. Why didn't I think of that.” Sam huffed. “It's clearly trying to say something, we could look it up?”

Dean's solid grip didn't waver on the thing, but he did lower Sam and Oz back to the table. Once they were free of his hand, he went over to the other bed and brought over his laptop, and turned it back on from sleep mode. The dragon gaped at the computer for a second or two. Huffing what could be a laugh at it. Dean felt defensive. It started wiggling and trying to get free once it saw it boot up.

Dean stared at it as it started poking at his index finger with its tiny clawed fingers. Tapping the little fingers along the top and starting to growl, but not in anger, more like, frustration that it wasn't being understood. Dean chuckled at it. “What is it boy? Timmy stuck in the well again?”

The thing stopped tapping and huffed a surprised laugh. Damn thing looked relieved before it shook its head. Doing that pokey thing with its fingers again, the bound hand thumping next to it like it wanted to join in. It pointed with its bound hand down at the laptop and noticed the new bandage. Sniffing tentatively at it for a second. Unsure. A small smile graced it's thin lips and it aimed its appreciated grin up at him. Chirping something out and nodding what could only be thanks, before going back to pointing and poking down at the table.

“You want Sam?”

A shake of its head. More pointing.

“Oz?” Dean asked, noting Oscar down there stiffen up and shoot a worried look overhead. “Don't worry, not sacrificing you to the monster.” Dean turned back to it and the dragon sighed. “Uhh, the computer?”

Enthusiastic nodding.

“You can understand how to use it?”

The dragon nodded and pointed some more. Chirping going along with the motions.

“I let you down, you swear not to hurt my brother or our friend?” Dean wouldn't risk them down there anyway, he just didn't want the dragon to get the idea that they were not going to be defended. The thing actually made a crisscross over its heart. Dean recalled Sam mentioning the move earlier. One trick the thing learned. Smarter then he thought. “Ok.” Dean said and let down his hand for Sam and Oz to climb back up. “Just a precaution, fellas.”

Sam grumbled but elbowed Oz to join him right back up on the hand. Musical chairs. Both men were lifted up as the thing was set down. They all stared in wonder as it hobbled over to the keyboard and hoisted itself halfway onto the touch pad. Moving its unwrapped hand around on it and double clicking when and where he needed to to open up a word document. It seemed to know exactly how computers worked, but was irritated for some reason. As if things weren't where they were supposed to be. Finally getting what it wanted, it chirped happily. An honest to God thumbs up at the three others. Then the hard part. It turned off the touchpad then climbed up the rest of the way onto the laptop, and balanced itself in the middle, right where the wrists would rest and then its wings came forward, pushing down the keys one by one and making his first sentence. They were already mesmerized by its knowledge of technology. But what came next was even more unbelievable. Three gasps filled the space at what they saw.

'i am dean winche -' the rest of it still being typed out when Dean interrupted it.

“ _Bullshit._ ” Dean's loud declaration made the little thing flinch down in worry.

They all stared at each other. Their mutual friend whimpering softly, looking like it was debating with itself to keep typing or run away. Sammy piped up, “Dean. None of us ever said our last name. Even if he knew yours from us talking... he wouldn't...”

The dragon went back to typing after hitting the space bar a number of times. Visually showing that this was a new topic. The wings were half folded, the thumbs and wrists being used to punch at the keys in precise strokes. Like it knew where the letters were without really seeking them out. 'sam and i were on a hunt. went sideways', and he turned to spread his wings out as if on display. Turning back to the screen once he was sure that they weren't going to attack him or deny his words. 'sam is in next room. i want to go back. wont come here again.' and turned around to cross over his heart one more time with his good hand. Wincing when his bound one had to take the weight for that move. Chirping silently and nodding. He then noticed the collar resting against his shoulders around his neck and gaped in growing horror. Wing thumbs hooking under the metal and tugging. Quickly figuring out where he needed his wing thumbs to be to get it up and off of his neck. Lifting up the wings awkwardly to clear the neck spikes that all aimed downwards because nothing in his life can be simple. He cleared the spikes but was unable to get it off from around his horns no matter which way he turned his head. Little chest heaving in rapid breaths. Panic building the more the metal clanked with his horns.

Sam looked up at his Dean from his spot on the wide hand, and saw the frozen expression on his brother's face. “Dean!” His brother's glazed eyes looked down and focused on him. “Dean! Get that off of him!”

“Right...” he said almost absentmindedly, and moved Sam and Oz towards his pocket. Just because the thing claimed to be well... _him,_ doesn't mean it can be trusted. Sam helped Oscar in first before jumping down in, forgoing grace and style entirely, because the longer he took, the longer it would take Dean to get that collar off of the frantic dragon.

Dean reached forward and saw the dragon version of himself cower back, crying out in renewed fear. He lunged at the keyboard and typed out a string of 'no's. The letters getting sloppy but the intent and plea clear as day. Backing up over the keys themselves to get some distance as his wings found the 'n' and 'o' again to keep going. The letters and numbers it was standing on mixed up between. It was such a terribly heartbreaking sight. Desperation just bleeding from his smaller counterpart. And _he caused it._

Dean knows he's intimidating to people smaller then him, and probably ruined all trust with this one too. That tends to happen when you slap a collar on someone that you've essentially captured against their will. He had so fucking much work to do to regain any sense of trust, or forgiveness. Might never be able to take it back, to start over. Watching it scratch at the scales and the metal collar, half choking itself in his panic.

Dean's own throat was hurting, guilt like a tangible lump he couldn't swallow down. Watching the horror stricken expression down below. “Hey, Buddy, just chill for a second. I'll, I'll take it... I'll take the collar off of you... I promise.” he said, voice breaking. The dragon's jaw was lax, breaths uneven. “I promise I'll take it off, but you've got to promise me something in return.”

The dragon was swaying slightly, wings fanning out and folding from nerves. Fight or flight. It, no... _he_. This dragon _was_ Dean and he clearly led a much more pain filled life. There was a reason why he showed up bandaged, and a reason why he's freaking out _way more_ then expected. Sure waking up to find you're wearing a collar isn't fun, but this was... there was so much _pain_ in these actions. Dean just didn't know what that was. He needed answers. “Uh, can't believe I'm saying this... Dean?”

The dragon looked up, wide eyed, panting hard, but it was paying rapt attention now. Wings stilling a little but kept trembling.

“Dean. Promise me that you wont hurt anyone.”

The dragon Dean looked incredulously up at him. Like it was the stupidest request ever. Catching himself scowling, little Dean nodded and went to the keyboard again. Getting some bit of control over himself. One muscle movement forward at a time. Minor, incrementally small steps, but steps forward nonetheless. The little guy turned his head, following movement behind him on the screen and finally seeing that his feet were continuously typing out a very long string of 'q's and '3's after making the screen the brightest it could get, courtesy of one of the quetips standing on it. He backed up the rest of the way from the keys, halting the steady march of letters and numbers across the screen. He then timidly walking to the flat part again and typed out, 'promise' then hit the space bar a few more times. Looking up every two seconds to make sure the human looming nearby didn't suddenly lunge forward to grab him again. 'you promise not to hurt me?' The question mark required both wings but it was clear that it needed to be there.

“I promise you, we wont hurt you. We all do. So long as you hold your promise.” He clarified. The dragon then huffed a few laughs and nodded firmly. Almost calmed down back to normal. Somewhere between dying of heart attack, and 'Is that stray growling dog friendly?'

Little Dean held out his bound hand like he wanted to shake on the promises, but realized his mistake. Lowering it back down, and looking like it was worried the move of the handshake being retracted would be taken the wrong way. Disrespectful.

Dean saw the conundrum and suggested and alternative, “Wing fist bump?”

The wing on the guy's right side curled slightly while being moved in front of his torso, and Dean held out his own fist. The half curled up wing bumped into it and splayed out before being folded in again a little hastily. Twitching with nerves even after they made the truce.

“I just fist bumped a _dragon_ version of _myself_.” Dean breathed and chuckled. The other Dean chirped some more and Dean couldn't find it in him to keep referring to the guy as a dragon, or a monster. So even in his head, he started thinking about that guy being 'tiny Dean'. Even when it's trilling out some kind of strange speech. “You sound like one of those dino's from Jurassic park.”

Tiny Dean stopped talking and turned and typed out, 'sam said that before too.'

“Wait... my Sam or... ?”

Tiny Dean pat his chest with the wing. And he looked to the wall again. 'i go back now'.

“Was that a question or a demand?”

Tiny Dean frowned a bit. Shrugging acutely as if to say, _it's_ _up to you which way to take it._

The human shifted his feet and stance. “I need you to answer some questions. But first, as a show of good faith, I'm going to take the collar off.” He stated and the smaller Dean narrowed his eyes at that. “It's not an ultimatum, I'll take the collar off regardless.” Which soothed some tension. His hands crept forward and the dragon took a step back, wary of the encroaching fingers. Dean halted his advance to raise an eyebrow at him. “Gotta touch it if you want it off. Sam's not strong enough to do it, even with Oz's help.”

The dragon petulantly stuck a forked tongue at him, and shook himself out before stretching out his neck and shutting his eyes tightly. Getting ready to feel fresh pain. The claws on his good hand curling into the fabric underneath. Palpable fear. And no small amount of bravery for staying still enough for Dean to reach forward again. He felt his fingers were just too damned big for this. His other smaller self stayed still, a tiny fretful sound escaping him at the first contact. Dean bent the metal outwards quickly and pulled his hands back from him. “All done.” He announced and threw the metal ring to the other side of the room. Far out of sight.

The tiny dragon looked down at his neck, inspecting the damages done but seeing just what he did to himself. He looked back up and gave a curt nod. Grateful for it being gone, but it was the human that put it on him in the first place.

Sammy caught his tall brother's attention with a few well placed elbow nudges. “Dean. We really should take him back. His Sam's probably worried sick. I know I would be if you up and disappeared.”

Oscar found his voice, after watching the whole thing. “So is his Sam also a dragon?”

“Good question.” Dean said and looked down for the answer. The dragon shook his head. “That's a relief.” Then caught himself. “No offense.” A wing flap and jerk of his head. Saying 'no problem' without needing typing.

Sam pushed his way up to see better from the pocket.

Going to the keyboard right after, 'need to get back to my time.'

“Your time? What do you mean?” Sam asked.

'Its', The wings hovered over the number keys. '2017.' Dean typed out, clearly wondering if it was the right thing to do.

They read and reread that over and over and it didn't change. The future. This little guy is from the future. That just brought up a hundred thousand more questions. “I turn into a dragon in the future? I thought you were from some, I don't know, alternate universe. But a freakin' _time traveler_?”

Sam pipped up, “Is your Sam... is he my size?”

Tiny Dean shook his head and motioned at the human.

Human Dean looked down with rising hope in his eyes towards Sam. “Sam gets to be human again?!”

Sam shot a look upwards. Halfway between relief that his Dean got his wish, and dread because he knows jack shit about being a human. He'd told Dean numerous times during their recent hunts and adventures that he was fine the way he is. There were plenty of people and things his size that made do with what they had. But apparently, something happens in the future. Something that changes Dean so completely for the worse. And in 11 years or so, hes going to not only have to deal with being a human, but also take care of his suddenly dragon shaped brother. And he'd apparently done a utterly _shit_ job of it, since the dragon showed up in _splints and bandages!_

Dean waved his wings a bit for attention. Typing out 'yes' for the first question, then a question mark.

Sam could feel the heart behind them thump into a frenzy. Trying to work out this new information for himself and coming up blank. Fuck, what was the first question again? Man, what he wouldn't give for a transcript of this whole mess so he could go over it again and again to see if it makes sense the fiftieth time around.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I missed a punctuation mark or spelled something horribly wrong. I'm half asleep even as I type this.  
> Start rant (Spent all day writing and rewriting this chapter since I had next to no taxi runs today. Made about 30 bucks after 10 hours... ah well, people like uber. Oh, a job hunting I will go! lol.) end rant.  
> I hope you guys like this half fluffy chapter, it helped.


	4. Time Keeps on Rollin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean to the rescue!  
> and then just pass out, brilliant Dean...  
> Sam vs Sam

Chapter Four

Time Keeps on Rollin'

 

 

 

The dragon went back to the keyboard to get more information. Maybe then they'll all start making sense. 'when did he turn small?' Dean had been meaning to ask for awhile now. Not remembering any of this shit at all.

That got all of them looking at each other in confusion. Maybe he had forgotten? Maybe it had something to do with turning into an animal like that. It was probably blind luck that he remembers his humanity at all. “Sam was hit by a curse when we were kids. That was 14 years ago.” Dean said and watched his small counterpart nod thoughtfully. “You're really not from around here are you?”

The dragon huffed a laugh. Understatement of the century. The guy was a tiny, dragon, time traveler, and a copy of the one asking questions. Who knows where he'd come from as well, other side of the country or other side of the world. And, apparently, from what Oscar was saying, it was late winter or early spring outside of the room next door. When it was obviously mid summer outside of his.

Tiny Dean typed out the next question, 'no spell to change back?' And looked back up at Sam with concern.

“What do you mean?”

The dragon shrugged a couple of shoulders and typed out, 'had spell to make me travel size', and then added, 'might have one to make him supersize'.

Dean gasped and looked down at Sam and Oscar. Is this it? Is this what can make him human again? Sam was at a complete loss of words but both looked down to the table when they heard Dean chirp something.

Before they could get their hopes up, Dean hastily typed out, 'its temporary', then lifted up his bound hand to mark his height. 'im very big usually, dont know when ill grow again'. And frowned up at the twin looks of disappointment.

Big Dean licked his lips. “Still... uh, it's worth checking out?”

Sam didn't know which Dean to address first. “I'm fine. Really guys...”

Tiny Dean typed out, 'ill go check'. And turned from the laptop, stepping down with some difficulty.

“Hang on there dragonheart. I've still got like a billion questions for you before you scamper off.” Dean jolted back to reality. This monster can't be him from the future. No way in fucking hell does he magically turn into a fucking dragon. It's promising things that of course would make him beg for more info. Knows what he wants most is to bring Sam back to humanity so he doesn't have to worry about his little brother being at risk all the time.

There might be a reason why this little winged monster knew his last name. Spying on them earlier perhaps. Trying to get them to let their guard down. The thought of it made him feel a bit more angry for letting himself be sucked in by the half promises and wild stories. Dean addressed Sam. “Let your guard down and people die. We don't have any solid proof this thing is really me, or that it's telling anything but lies to us right now.”

Oscar peered over the pocket downwards. All of this is going over his head and he wished he knew what to say to make them all calm down and listen with no accusations. “I think he's -” but silenced himself at the dangerous look his human friend was sending the small dragon.

Dean noticed the dragon looked taken aback by his words, but it could easily be an act. It climbed back up onto the keyboard with just as much trouble moving its bound legs. It could be another ploy to gain sympathy. It typed out, 'not lying. what do you want to know?'

Dean sneered at it. “First of all. I wouldn't break that easy. Give up information at the drop of a hat.”

The dragon squinted at him. 'you swore not to hurt.' The dragon reminded him. It then looked like it was taking a new appraising gaze of the biggest one in the room. He then hesitated, wings opening and closing like one would uneasily tap fingers on a counter. Nearly a solid minute of awkward silence passed before typing out. 'been tortured before.' Letting it sink in before going on. 'wont survive it again.' And turned his head to the other side away from them all, sniffing back his feelings before rubbing his arm self consciously and taking a few steadying breaths. Finding some resolve before going on to type. 'whats first question?' He stared right back up at the human with a confidence that he didn't feel.

Those few sentences that were still on the screen behind him spoke volumes. A history of pain, _confirmed_. It wasn't “over acting”, he was _remembering_ past pains and trying to prevent them from happening again by any means necessary.

Dean had to reconsider everything. What would he have done if he had been tortured before? Mutilated? How would he react to giants that could recreate those wounds with too much ease and unstoppable power? Sam had his arm broken from that bitch when she'd kidnapped him. That was for 'discipline'. Dean here, said he'd been _tortured_. For what reason, he could only guess. It was likely the simplest reason. Just the fact that he was a dragon, and dragons are meant to be hurt and killed. Tiny Dean knew it, accepted it, and said he wouldn't survive being tortured again.

Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Sam was speechless. Oz was crying.

Dean tried a couple of times to find his voice and resolve again. “First question.” He could practically feel Sam's venomous glare bore into him from his pocket, like Dean was the one with that knack of knowing when someone's staring at him. Oscar... little Oz was sitting at the bottom of the pocket and he could just hear the quiet sobs. Quiet, because Oz grew up knowing that he can never let a human hear him cry. Any human. Who's the real monster here? Dean cleared his throat, “First question is, what did you want to eat? We uh, fed you some beef when you were sleeping. You seemed to like it.”

A few startled squeaking chirps came out with some breathy rumbles before the little guy shook his head and typed out. '? really? you gave me food?'

Dean's throat was closing up. Had the other Sam been the one to starve this poor guy? Hurt him? He looked far too thin and now that he's really looking hard, it wasn't just thin but he'd been emaciated. One of his spikes was cut off between his shoulder blades. Old wounds all over the tiny vulnerable body. Taking a closer look at those wings showed the scar tissue where there once had been gaping holes torn straight through. Remembering how Bowman prized his wings and how much they mean to flying people. Crippling the wings could mean death for anyone depending on them. Who knows how long they took to heal again? Seeing the sheer number of wounds and mental scars, taking another look at how the guy held himself. What the fuck was that other Sam doing to him? Was he treating the guy like a monster? A pet that went ignored?

Dean mumbled to himself. “How could he let that happen to you?” Glancing at his own Sam, knowing that there was no way in hell that either brother would hurt the other so badly. Even when it was painfully obvious that Sam wasn't normal anymore due solely to his stature, he was still considered a person. Family. This version of himself hadn't had it so lucky.

The dragon was still searching for something in his face and coming up blank. Sniffing the air and seeking out the other two for answers. Why the human would say that. Instead, he typed out, 'i only eat meat.' And glanced to the mini fridge and back again. Dean used his hand to move the cursor back a few spaces to add a word. 'i only eat dead meat'.

Dean felt like throwing up. The other Sam fed the guy _carcasses_. It was no wonder he was in such rough shape. “I can't let you go back there.” Dean said, holding onto his mouth with a hand and steadying himself on the table with the other. The whole table shook along with him. “I can't. That's just... no. I wont let you go back to that.”

The dragon gaped. Quickly typing out, 'youyporomiss!'

“I did, but that was before I found out how you were being treated.” He sighed, “You've been brainwashed into thinking that you deserved that kind of treatment. What kind of man is Ok with abusing or torturing his own brother? Just because he had changed?”

“Dean.” Sammy said from his pocket. “The other me... he did this?”

“Probably.”

The dragon was shaking his head rapidly. 'love sam love cas want to go back', The letters were clear and controlled even as the little body was trembling and nearly hyperventilating.

“Who's Cas?” Dean furrowed his brow. Looking to Sam in his pocket for any idea, but just got a tiny shrug in reply.

Tiny Dean was panting hard. Staggering away from the keyboard. Moaning sounds were all that was heard before he suddenly retched what he'd eaten earlier, all around himself on the laptop. Heaving and tripping over itself to get away from them. Falling off of the laptop and throwing up again. Emptying the rest of his stomach. It was smoking a little.

Sam hoisted himself up from the pocket and hooked his fishing hook onto the edge, sliding down rapidly to the tabletop since it was obvious Dean wasn't going to help him get closer at the moment. Sam leaped away just as his brother cursed overhead at the sudden movement. The protective hand reaching for him again but Sam spun around a the sight of the shadow and wielded his knife at him. “Don't!” Sam shouted the warning. The knife was poised and ready to strike. When Dean brought his hand back away from him, the older brother knew he'd crossed that line far too many times today. Sam frowned deeply and set off for the dragon again. He'd never wanted to raise his blade against his brother. But Dean was wrong about this. Wrong for questioning the other one so much, assuming the worst. And his giant brother was taking far too many liberties with grabbing them all up when he felt like it was warranted. Sam wasn't sure if he'd do the same, but, the little Dean down here needed someone his size to talk to. Clearly suffering from PTSD, they'd need to calm him down first before talking about it. Pushing for answers now, is wrong and only making things worse.

 

His stomach roiled and lurched even if there was nothing left in it. The burning sensation of stomach acids in his throat mixing with his flame spray. Remembering at the last second to not grind his molar teeth and accidentally set it on fire. In his state, he doubts he'd be able to escape it before dying in his own flames. But this, this can't be happening. It can't be happening. Dean thought over and over. That gigantic version of himself was going to keep him away from his family. Probably as a pet. That's why he put a damned _collar_ on him. Tried to leash him up like a dog. Treat him like the animal he looks like. An exotic pet turned obedient fighting dog, like Azazel had trained him. Or ship him off somewhere once the giant human gets tired of taking care of him. Like the military did to him when he was sold to Michael. Or the scientists that were just itching to dissect him. Passed around like property, like a unique specimen, like an animal no one wants. The giant promised not to hurt Dean, but there's plenty of ways to do just that without leaving physical scars.

Meanwhile his Sam back in the other room will be freaking out, thinking that Michael's men got to them. Or the military, or shit, maybe even Azazel, or his grand torturer, Alistair. Sam wouldn't know what to think. He just wakes up and his brother's missing. They wouldn't stick around there. They'd leave the motel immediately. Try and hunt him down. Find him again. But leaving Dean here all alone. Fuck. This can't be happening. He's got to get back to the room. Away from this crazy fucked up place. That giant actually asked who Cas was. That means that Cas isn't here. Not in this universe, even if it isn't his love, his mate, Dean just knows he can't live without him.

Dean can't stop the dry heaves that his body insists on doing. There's nothing to throw up anymore but he's stuck heaving out his guts. Throat burning worse then if it was on fire. Fire was second nature to him now, but this is acidic and painful. Past all that, he hears footsteps approaching. The giant wouldn't be walking so it's one of the smaller dudes. His watery eyes land on Sam. And isn't that cruel. This world cursed his little brother to be extra little, helpless. And tiny Sam's stuck with a giant asshole Dean that feels like it's well and acceptable to trap him whenever he feels like it. Talk about _brainwashed_. This Sam needs to escape from here more then he does. Because this Sam actually believes that that Dean is alright. That its perfectly Ok to be manhandled.

Dean can barely stand up so he lets the small Sam approach. Gathering up some of his energy. At least the giant listened to the little Sam when he asked for some space. The giant moved away a few steps. Dean refuses to think that that monstrous human is an alternate version of him. Can't be. So he waits, and watches the very young Sam come closer.

It made it easier to breath and just _deal_ with everything.

Sam looked like he was approaching a wild animal and Dean couldn't disagree more with that. He knows he's human on the inside but these guys think he's lost his mind. His Sam never treated him like an animal. Or manhandled him without permission. Made him feel out of control. His brother and Cas saved his life in more ways then one and this giant just wants to keep him here. Against his will. Trapped.

Sam's hands are suddenly on his neck, fingers grazing down the scales. Pretty soothing once Dean's focused on it. The long strokes and gentle voice... is it wrong to say it's working? Dean looks up at the pocket. The other guy hasn't made an appearance yet. Ok with just hanging out in there and crying apparently. Dean will have to come back for him later. Right now? He's got an extra little brother to save.

Dean waits for a break in the giant's attention and gets it when he's going for some water in the bathroom sink. Now or never. Dean stands and swiftly bites down hard onto Sammy's coat and bag strap, making sure not to hit skin. He sprints to the end of the table towards the edge and spreads his wings wide. Gliding down and finding the strength to make it to the wall. Dean's using his wings in a controlled fall from the air before they crashed. Stumbling and taking the entire brunt of the landing. Sam was winded regardless, but he'll live. He's heavy in Dean's jaws and only two inches shorter but Dean has more volume and Drauglin strength behind his muscles. Dean hoists the small human up into the hole in the wall and sprints with him as far and fast as he can. The plaster hill he'd been trapped on is no match for the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Get back to _his_ Sam. Get back to safety. Save this little guy.

The little guy in question was now punching the crap out of his chest, shouting for the giant Dean's help. The loud bellows echo though the walls and they hear knocking on the sides, seeking out the dragon and his stolen brother. A boot comes through the wall just above and behind Dean's mad dash. A hand and arm sweep in and miss them by milliseconds. Another curse and the humans retreating for another kick. It's high enough so that the giant doesn't hit them directly, but still far too scary to be welcomed. The wall implodes in light and sound again. Dean trips in his startlement, accidentally throwing Sammy ahead of him, further down the corridor. He scrambles to his feet again. Finding Sam hunched over, coughing in the churning particles in the air from the pulverized plaster. Dean has a second to make a decision. Leave Sam behind, or grab and go, risking them both getting caught again.

He will risk everything for Sammy. No matter which one it is. He can't leave his little brother behind. Dean thrashes his claws down on and through the hand that enters his sight through the new hole above, and bites down hard, drawing blood. The giant curses, recoiling his bleeding hand and Dean grabs Sammy again in his now bloody jaws. Lifting the small human up and tossing him onto his back as he starts off again. Wings lifting on both sides pin Sammy down to his back. The other large unmarred hand entering the hole right behind them. Scratching wildly at the inner walls. No more kicks because there's no more hotel room on the giant's side. The air is shifting in the walls, the wood different, the metal tunnel is right up ahead. Mere inches. He reaches the opening and is surprised to find the air warmer then before. The vent is turned on but the air is coming out of nowhere once he steps foot inside the metal corridor.

They hear an enraged shout and several more thumps and pounds. Answering pounds coming from rooms adjacent from other people staying in the Knights Inn. Dean only has ears for his own room back in reality. Back in 2017. That trip into the past really freaked him out. Almost as much as seeing a decade younger version of himself and Sam.

His wings take a beating from Sammy's fists, but stay folded up to keep little Sammy on his back. Finding the vent again was easy once he smelled it out. Sam's scent, _his_ Sam's scent is coming up ahead. Dean's staggering badly now. His leg is on fire from the very long run, the cue-tip splint barely doing its job at cushioning the footsteps.

'Almost there, baby bro.' Dean pants even though he knows this Sam doesn't understand him. His own brother will and he'll make sense of all this. Dean sees the square light ahead from the vent's opening. The grate still laying where he'd torn it off. They are almost there. _Almost there!_

'Sammy!' He roars, trips several more times. Sounds of shuffling just beyond.

“Dean?” The responding voice grits out. His brother sounds like he just woke up, freaked and approaching fast.

The tiny Sam on his back is speechless. Stills for once and Dean's grateful. A shadow blocks part of the light beyond. Dean trips forward in his haste. Tiny Sam is thrown off of his back and to the side. Winded from landing on his back.

The small kid throws his arms up to block his face from attack. Curls into a ball and whispers, “Please.”

'Almost there, kid. Don't worry.' Dean lurches back to his feet, picking up Sam in his mouth by his coat, half dragging half carrying. Making it those last few steps to the vent's entrance. Wing claws scratch at the metal so his Sam can find the source of the sounds easier.

The room is still dark but a light flicked on. His big Samsquash is a welcomed sight, even in sleep pants and a confused scowl on his face.

“The hell are you doing, Dean?” He asks, bewildered. Voice loud and familiar and sounding like home more then four walls and a picket fence.

The small Sam freezes when he sees his human counterpart. No doubt stunned by seeing an older much _much_ taller version of himself. The beard scruff the human has, makes him look just that much older then just 11 years, and it takes the tiny man a minute to recognize the visible features. Dean can smell the fear coming from the little guy and wants to console him, reassure him but that will take time. Dean has every faith that his brother can handle the treatment of this delusional and traumatized victim. Once Dean's rested, he will go back for Oscar and save him too. For now, he's grateful he made it out and saved this helpless little guy.

'Sammy. Look at what I found.' He mumble chirped past the fabric of tiny Sam's coat and promptly falls down for the last time that night, just as his Sam's huge hands wrap around the two of them. Blackness overtakes him and he lets it. Now that he knows that his Sam is here. That he'll protect them all. It's all ok now.

 

Sam had awoken to the sounds of thumps coming through the walls. Echoing strangely around the room. Angry shouts that stir him away from his deep sleep. “Wha? What's going on?” He swipes his finger across the cell phone, checks the time, 2:30 am. Fucks sake. Doesn't anyone sleep around here?

Sam shifts onto his side, blearily searching the darkness of the room for signs of movement. Nothing from Bobby's bed. Dean is pretty quiet inside the drawer where he'd been placed overnight. He can't hear anything from the other hotel room where Cas and Balth are sleeping, and Rufus is probably still up keeping watch. He checks his cell... no messages. No police sirens outside signaling that they'd been found. So what woke him up?

He senses distress, just at the edges of his mind. Not his own... Dean's. The communication spell sending him Dean's strongest feelings, not just what he's saying. Helpful now that he's got a warning that Dean isn't alright. He sits up abruptly and opens up the drawer. No Drauglin. Fuck! He scans the floor before putting his feet on the ground. Picking up the spell book that must have fallen and setting it down on the bed. He doesn't hear anything below and Bobby's still sleeping, so his brother wont be over there. Then Sam hears the scratching coming from the wall again. A rat? Shit. What if Dean's fighting a rat?! He can't defend himself if half his legs are tied up in bandages. He hears the metallic taps and searches out where the vents are.

'Sammy!'

Dean's roar. He sounds exhausted and Sam's up in seconds. There's several things in the room that could make that metallic sound. The laundry chute, the heating vent, the intake vents... when he hears something fall down and it sounds like it's closer to his right and lower down.

“Dean?” he says loud enough for his brother to hear, but not alert the other sleeping residents of the motel. More scratching from the floor and he sees the vent cover leaning against the foot board. Torn from the wall, Sam's sure it wasn't like that last night. He can't just throw his hand into the vent blindly, he might end up hurting Dean more then helping because that vent is pitch black.

At the edge of hearing, Sam detects a voice, pleading. Then his brother is grumble chirping a response that confuses him even more then figuring out why Dean would take a stroll inside the vents. 'Almost there, kid. Don't worry.'

Sam can't work in the dark, and Bobby will just have to deal with it, as he goes to the overhead light switch and flips it on. Illuminating the room at the same time that he hears his brother scratching at the vent's entrance. “The hell are you doing, Dean?”

His Drauglin brother has something in his mouth. There's blood on his lips. At first it looks like a few scraps of cloth but then the cloth has eyes, and hands and it's uncurling from a ball to stare up at him in pure horror. Sam's eyes widen comically. Dean just looks so damned proud of himself, even as he's literal seconds away from collapse. Sam's seen him in bad conditions before, but this... his brother risked his life to bring him, what? A living action figure? A borrower? Those things actually exist?

'Sammy. Look at what I found.' He mumble chirped.

Sam just stares at him for a second. His expression plain as day, 'Really?' Before watching with new fear that Dean is loosing the battle to stay upright and conscious. Sam falls to his knees and his hands sweep forward to catch the fall. Gingerly cupping his hands around his little brother and the borrower looking guy who's still caught in the closed mouth. Sam hears Bobby stir on his bed and lifts the two little ones from the floor and watches as the new guy is struggling with Dean's clamped shut mouth.

Sam lowers his eyebrows and frowns at that. There was a reason Dean had him caught like that so he sets both of them down on his bed first, before turning his hands around from underneath to over top.

“Bobby, help me out here.” He says and Bobby swings his legs over and looks down at what Sam caught.

“What's going on?”

“Dean caught something inside the walls. I'm thinking it looks like a borrower or fairy.” Sam said and curled his fingers around the small guy and slowly lifted him up and away from the bulk of Dean's body. Bobby put his fingers on the bridge of Dean's long nose and under his jaw, gently prying the mouth open enough for Sam to maneuver the guy out from the sharp teeth. The guy looks freaked as hell but there's no telling what it's capable of. He carries the tiny body over to the table and looks around for someplace to put it where it wont be in the way before they have a chance to deal with it. There's something nagging at him at the tiny face though. Beyond how much it looks human. He felt something poking at his palm and turned the body around, seeing a small bag with a fish hook attached to coiled string. “Huh. Got a climber here.” He commented and using his other hand, removed the bag from over the little guy's head. No amount of tugging or frustrated grunts is helping it out. “Calm down. We just want some answers.” He said and considered using the coffee pot as something that would work as a holding pen. Dismissing the idea because sometimes small things can jump really high. The vase was too narrow with the long fake flower sticking out, and he didn't want to force the thing into a beer bottle. Even if he'd fit and it would be that much harder to jump out of. It was too demeaning. Cruel. For now, his hand will have to do.

“Bobby, how's he doing?”

“Fine, little banged up, but no more then usual. The blood isn't his, he must have bit that thing in your hands.”

Sam looked over the small thing. “You're injured?”

The guy shook his head, still fearful and unmoving. At least, until Sam felt a sharp stab in his fingers and he jolted the hand open. The guy fell the few inches to the tabletop where Sam was taking him anyway.

“Little jerk.” Sam scowled but sighed. “Honestly, I should have expected some kind of weapon.” And noticed that it was still held up and at the ready. He looked at the cut on his finger and saw that it wasn't that bad. Taking away a sliver of a knife felt wrong somehow. “What are you?”

The guy was darting his gaze everywhere, scared of everything surrounding him. Ok. Maybe it's a victim? Change your tone. “Listen. We jus want to know why my brother brought you back here. Were you spying on us?”

The guy's expression changed and shook his head.

“You can't talk, can you.” Sam mumbled and out of the corner of his eye saw Bobby tend to Dean. “Bobby, what does this thing look like to you? I can't... place it.”

Bobby makes sure Dean is comfortable in the t-shirt again and leaves him on the other side of the room, away from the potential danger. “Huh. Humanoid. Male probably.” Ignoring the scoff below. Could mean anything. “It might be an Imp if it reacts badly to salt. Should we do the tests?”

Sam nodded and sat down at the table, removing the laptop and everything else. The creature was the only thing left and it did not like that. The small bag went into his hand again and he inspected the workmanship. The little one was clearly hesitating to move, but also too nervous to stand still. The clasps on the bag were just too small for Sam so he dangled it in front of the little one. “What's in it?”

He folded his arms in front of himself.

“Tell me what's in it or I'll have to open it myself. I have to make sure you're not hiding a weapon in it.” He said and considered that he'll have to open it anyway. The thing could lie and say it's harmless. He put it into his left hand and got out a paperclip from an inner pocket with his right, using his teeth to open it up and fiddle with the clasps. It took a minute, but he managed it open without breaking it and dumped out its contents. Using the paperclip to move things around.

“Book of some kind, bits of pencil lead? Uh, a whetstone, good idea.” He winked at the dude for keeping his knife sharp. A knife to someone that size should be kept in good shape. “Some bits of string, paper packet of some sort...” He opened up the folded paper and saw white granules. “Sugar?” he wasn't about to taste it to find out. Moving on. “Nothing in here looks particularly dangerous, but spells can do a lot of damage.” He frowned at the book and using one finger, held down the back cover and used the rounded end of the paperclip to gently open it up. Squinting hard at the nearly invisible letters. One glance up and the guy was simply _pissed_. If looks could kill, this guys bitchface would melt steel. Sam frowned and flipped through some more pages, there were some drawings and sigils but they were for protection, at least, the ones he recognized. Best to keep this stuff away from the guy in any case. Just for now. He used a sheet of paper to scoot everything onto it and folded it into a rough cone shape before letting it all slide right back into the bag again. He was unable to seal it shut again so he made sure it was leaning more or less upright before he leaned to his side to set the bag on the dresser.

Bobby came back with a silver knife longer then the guy by three times. A bag of rock salt and an iron nail. “Gonna do this in order. Now, if you're Fae, let us know now, because this will burn.” Bobby held up the nail first and sat down at the other chair. “Before we start, should we let the others in on this little discovery?”

Sam shook his head. “No, Cas and Balth are still too new to the supernatural and we need Rufus to watch our backs.”

Bobby angled the nail so that the sharp end was aimed away from the guy, so it wasn't seen as a weapon. He moved it closer, holding his breath but they both let out relieved sighs when the guy actually walked forward to it and grabbed the nail firmly, showing off his hands. Then walked over to the salt and picked up one of the small rocks that had fallen out. Over exaggeratedly licking it for good measure, but making a sour face at that. As one would if they licked straight up salt. Then he paused as he took in the very long very sharp looking knife and took in a steadying breath before approaching the massive weapon, and putting both hands on it, showing off the lack of bruising.

Both men leaned back and were relieved but also more confused. Bobby turned to Sam and said, “Should we try a sigil or two?”

Sam scoffed, “Which one?”

Bobby straightened out his hat and brought over a piece of paper and drew out a circle with some marks inside. Then laid it in front of the small man. “Stand inside this.”

The guy raised an eyebrow but did as instructed and lifted up both arms before they fell at his sides again, then tried to leave the circle but found his feet were stuck. His mouth dropped open. The panicked voice that came out startled the two huge hunters. “I'm not a demon!”

Both Hunters narrowed their eyes at that proclamation. Sam spoke up first. “That has nothing to do with demons.” leaning forward. “Demons are too rare in the world to be considered as a possibility for these simple tests. But. For you to mention something that's basically extinct when you saw a sigil like this...” He looked over at Bobby. “Maybe it is an Imp. Not a regular demon. More like a demon cousin?”

“Could be.” Bobby frowned, leaning much closer to the man inside the sigil. “But I gotta tell ya, Sam... it looks so familiar, don't it?”

The guy was trying to tug his feet away with both hands now, getting more stuck to the circle until he fell onto his butt. Hands and feet together, he looked like he'd been tied town. “I'm not a demon or Imp or anything! I just want to go home!”

“Sounds familiar too.” Bobby said and he saw the mop of brown air move to the side with a head tilt that was straight out of his memories. “Sam... that's you.” His hand pointed down and looked at his surrogate son. “I'd know that silly little head flip thing that you used to do anywhere. This little guy looks just like you did.”

Sam leaned forward too, distrust clear in his expression as he really studied the facial features. “No way.”

Bobby sighed and nearly chuckled. “You boys never really had many old photo's did ya.” He sighed and got up from the chair to limp on over to where he'd dumped his things in the bathroom. Fetching his wallet. Opened it up and flipped through and found what he was looking for. Taking an old photo out and laying it down next to the boy in the circle. “That's what you two idjits looked like back in ''04. Tell me that doesn't look like you nexta Dean. Maybe a coupla years older, but it's you.”

The boy in the circle leaned over as far as he could to see the photo as well and gasped. “I never shrunk.”

Both men heard it and asked the same kind of question at the same time, “You shrunk?” “You were big?”

The boy nodded and kept looking at the photo almost more then his captors. “When I was a kid.”

“So you _are_ me?” Sam asked and couldn't believe he was considering this. “Where the hell did Dean find you?”

The boy's eyes darted to the wall and back, shaking his head earnestly. “Nowhere!”

Bobby squinted at him. “That sound a little forced to you.”

Sam frowned. Nodding and going to the wall to listen. Flattening himself out and pressing an ear to the wall.

Bobby said, “Go out and see if that room is occupado.”

Sam agrees and gets dressed quickly, packing his gun and a couple of clips with bullets into his pockets. Muttering to himself, “Gotta be ready for anything.” He came over to the table and also pocketed the salt bag and silver knife next. “How many are over there?”

The boy looked up in fear and shook his head mutely.

“Talk, or I'm going in with backup.” Looking to Bobby who could easily summon all of their group together.

Bobby stood and smacked Sam upside the head. “What if it's just a bunch of curse victims? You go in guns blazing you're not going to be seen as a good guy there to help.”

“What if they're being held hostage and I need the gun ready to take out the bad guy.” Sam added, “Dean came back here with blood on his mouth and then passed out from his injuries. We both know he was in fairly good shape when he was here last night. What did they do to him?”

“We didn't do anything!” The kid shouted up and got their attention.

“There's a 'we'.” Sam whispered and approached the table again. “Who else. Who hurt Dean.” Sam shook his head and clarified. “The dragon that brought you here. His name's Dean. Who hurt him.” He set the gun onto the table with a loud clatter. “Tell the truth or someone might get hurt on accident. Look, I don't want to hurt anyone, but if they're holding people hostage, hurting them, we gotta help. We can save them. It's what we do. Don't make our job harder by staying quiet.”

The guy pipped up, “Listen. If you are Sam, and that really is your brother Dean, then you've got nothing to fear from us. My brother didn't mean to hurt him. We even re-wrapped his bandages. We didn't do _that!_ We did not break his leg. That was like that when we first saw him. He was chasing a friend of mine through the walls and got himself stuck. Oscar and I helped him get out of a pile of plaster and he just passed out after we left. We came back later and found him still there, so we knew we had to help him or he might have died in the walls.” The tiny Sam spoke quickly as if they'd get mad for him taking too long. It did help them figure out what all happened since they had bub-kiss to go on before. Dean just _had_ to bring him into the room and then pass out right away.

Tiny Sam continued, “Dean made a hole in the wall and pulled the dragon out. We helped him. I swear. Then he just freaked out on us and kidnapped me. Dean... my Dean said you were the ones that hurt him. That he'd be safer with us.” Sam couldn't see the dragon from where he sat but his expression showed his concern all the same. “He thought you broke his leg, tortured him. We can't let that happen to anyone. No matter what they look like.” His tone turning angry again. But, perhaps it was misplaced. These two didn't appear to be mistreating the dragon. On the contrary, they were doing this Q&A because they wanted to see if Sam was the one threatening him. Sam kept going, now that he thinks these guys might be alright, and it was all one big misunderstanding. “Little Dean got on the computer and told us some stuff, but my Dean just didn't believe at first that the dragon was him from the future. I mean,” The kid started to laugh a little hysterically, motioning with his head around the room. “Who would have thought this is what the future looks like?!” Eyes catching the flat screen TV on the wall. “Holy shit.” He could just imagine how big movie night would be with that playing the flicks. Attention going back to the human. “It looks the same here. More or less.” And shrugged what he could. “You have flying cars yet?” The sad pout on the two giants faces told him the answer was 'no', and that they were upset about that fact as well. He laughed and said, “Dean would still be driving the Impala regardless if everyone else is out flying around.”

Both Bobby and Sam listened to the small guy talk. Bobby was having old memories come back to him in waves. The voice sounded so young and trusting, hopeful. The Sam standing next to him was turning a little hard, towards himself mostly.

The kid waited for them to say something but got nothing, so he figured he needed to clarify some more. “Dean and I are Hunters, we fight monsters and try and save people. We thought your Dean needed saving, and apparently, he thought I needed saving as well. So, we uh, kidnapped each other.” He mumbled and said with a mock jovial voice to lighten the mood in the room. “So, Even-Stevens? What do ya say you just let me out of this trap and I'll be on my merry way.” He wiggled his wrists and ankles since his hands and feet were still held fast to the paper. Looking down at it and memorizing what marks and lines he could see, so that he could use it again in the future alongside Dean... if they let him get back to his Dean. He closed his eyes shut tight, thinking about it might make it happen so he said instead, “What is this anyway? It catches humans that have been cursed to shrink when they're children?” Going for a joke.

“Clearly.” Bobby rolled his eyes.

“Look.” the kid went on, “I don't have any powers, at least, nothing harmful to you humans. I just have a bit of extra strength on my side. But I wasn't even able to use it against the little dragon. So, you have nothing to fear from me. You can let me go out of this trap thing.” Keeping his other knack from their attention since it might help him out later if he escapes. He tried to stay calm but this was almost worse then being tied up. The invisible restraints were unnerving as hell because it felt like his hands and feet were literally glued to the paper by invisible forces. Wondering if he tried to roll away, if he could, or if his back would just get stuck to it next and he'd really be in a pretzel. “Come on, guys, my nose itches like a son of a bitch.” Wiggling it for good measure.

Sam chuckled and moved his hand closer, a fingernail as large as the kid's face coming closer and closer.

Tiny Sam leaned back away from it, eyes going wide. “Nevermind! I'm good! I'm good!!”

Sam retracted the finger and looked at Bobby for a second and got a small nod. Sam then brought up his other hand and tore the paper until the sigil was broken. Freeing the small kid.

Tiny Sam scooted back quickly from the circle sigil as if it was going to chase him and laughed quietly. “Thanks.” he said upwards. Gaining some trust and being freed helped prove that these guys were good and it was all just miscommunication.

“Not so fast mini-me, you're coming with.” Sam informed informally, and chuckled at the confused look on the kid's face. Did he really look this young? Anythings possible. He mentally shrugged. Maybe to make up for this mess later, he can tell this kid what companies to invest in so he'd be filthy rich later on. If their world is anything like Sam's, of course. It wouldn't hurt the cosmic balance too much to have a house in every state to crash at, would it?

Sam reached forward and picked the kid up in his hand again, but gentler this time. “I'll hold onto your bag for now. We still don't know what's over there, we only have your word for it.” He lifted up his hand and addressed the wide eyed person. “You understand, right?”

“Better then anyone.” He sighed and waved a hand for them to get going. The sooner they get next door, the sooner his Dean could stop tearing the walls apart looking for him... which... by the way. It's just the one cheaply made hotel wall. Why didn't Dean hulk smash it down yet?

“And away we go.” The voice behind him rumbled. They left the motel room with the small Sam now tucked into his coat to keep him safe from any strangers prying eyes, and keep the little body warm from the chilly March air.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What d'yall think about Sam's hostage negotiation skills with himself?


	5. Sail on, On a Distant Highway, Yeah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where things get weird.

Chapter Five:

Sail on, On a Distant Highway, Yeah

 

 

Dean paced the hotel wall several times before shouting obscenities and punching it. He heard and felt Oz in his pocket cry out in fear and stopped moving, he felt guilty as hell for terrifying the little guy but was more pissed that the monster had made off with his brother and he couldn't stop it at all. It should have been child's play to stop something no bigger than a rat but no. He failed Sam. “Fuck!” He cursed loudly and apologized a second later, lifting up his hand and opening up the pocket.

“Sorry, Oz, you should probably come out now.” He said with pursed lips, and Oz cowered back from that rage filled face. Dean took and released a breath away from Oz and put on a smile, Oz could see right through it but rather then make the human wait any longer, he took up the invitation and climbed onto the hand. The hand that just a few seconds ago was _punching through walls._ It was really a testament how much he trusted his friend to not hurt him. He noticed that Dean was favoring the other hand that had blood dripping down the fingers. Gasping at the sight of it.

“He did that to you?” Oscar pointed down and saw the hand lift up and turn this way and that. Inspecting the damage for himself.

“Yeah. He's gonna pay for that.” Dean said lowly and forced himself to be gentle when he lowered Oz to the soft unused bed. Sure that his tiny friend wouldn't appreciate being on the floors with him stomping about the place. “I don't feel comfortable with you going into the walls just yet, Dude. No telling where he's headed next, so you should probably find some cover.” Dean said, already turning back to the wall.

Oscar nodded mutely and instead of going to his usual place of safety, his home which is inside those walls, he stayed put. The nightstand was too close to an opening just below. The kitchenette had the third entrance. His eyes darted everywhere, half expecting the dragon to pop up at any second and snatch him away too. It seemed like Dean was right, that this was a monster that was lying to gain their trust. All to kidnap Sam. He watched with awe and no small amount of fear as the human put his weight into moving the furniture out of the way of the wall, ripping the brackets that held the TV in place with just a few well angled pulls and several kicks. The hotel had a rash of thefts and bolted nearly everything down, but that wouldn't stop a rage filled and desperate Hunter like Dean.

Dean pushed the dresser out of the way and was about to throw the pictures out away from the walls but took a quick breath and set them down with a bit more care. Just enough to keep the glass from breaking before turning all his attention back to the wall. He knew better then to start making holes without knowing exactly where or who was on the other side or inside, so he stepped closer and listened. Hearing nothing. He strode to the bathroom and procured the plastic cups and tossed the rest to the floor but saved one to cup against the wall and his ear to hear better. Still nothing. He huffed angrily and tapped a finger along the walls and found the studs inside. Grabbing a pen and marking the lines out so that when he does smash the damn thing down, he doesn't break a knuckle on a 2x4.

He paced some more, considering his options. If he blows a hole in at any spot, it's going to alert those on the other side that he's there and there's no telling how many dragons are on the other side. Or if they've got worse monsters. That one said he was bigger before, and that they'd had a spell to shrink him down to be more 'travel size'. If he was telling the truth, there might be proper dragon sized dragons out there. And, not just that. He took Oz's word for it that the room didn't fit in his hotel. So, it was probably unwise to try and break into something that can span time and space and exist in a potentially parallel universes.

Dean always said Sam was the smart one, but Dean was smart too. He reads. And in just about every single sci fi book out there, you _do not fuck with time lines._ Things usually turn out worse then before. He paced and considered his options. Going in rage filled and blind is going to get someone killed.

He turned to look at Oz while he thought. He could see the small flinch his friend made and sighed. Fuck. Is there anyone he hasn't scared yet today? “Sorry, Oz. I'm just... trying to think things through. I swear I'm not going to go in guns blazing.”

He saw rapid fire nods coming at him and that didn't really assure him that Oz felt comforted by that statement.

He took his gaze from the little guy to compose himself better. Treat this like a normal hunt, even if they were already on a hunt in this town. There was a reason they came here and it wasn't just to catch up with their friend. Now considering the possibility that whatever they're hunting here, found them first, disguised itself in something small and hurt looking, only to steal his brother as a hostage.

He wished to heaven and hell he knew what he was dealing with that had that kind of power. He was sure it wasn't a shapeshifter since they're usually human shaped and it wouldn't make sense to make itself so small. Hell, it got caught up in some plaster and passed out. That doesn't really scream violent monster capable of ripping people to shreds and eating them in the woods. Maybe that dragon was a pet or companion to the monster he and Sam came here to hunt? What are the odds that there would be two supernatural things in the area?

Ok. Figure it out Dean, figure it out. Reports of people being abducted in the woods. Body parts scattered everywhere. Hearts missing but that doesn't necessarily mean werewolf because most of the body was missing too. Don't assume. It had taken hikers and bikers and two people cutting through the woods to get home from school. That one really made him pissed all over again. They were _kids_...

Focus. Ok. So it eats people, leaves four toed tracks in the woods and is violent as hell. Animalistic and even if it's not covering its tracks, it's damned hard to find. Dean recalls that the dragon had just four toes on its hind legs, and the camouflage probably would help it hide in the woods easily. But the tracks out there were larger then their visiting monster itself so maybe it is the one who spawned it? But all the attacks happened well within the woods. Never inside the walls of a hotel in the middle of the damned city. It had to have been outside to get here. Dean had already looked at the sewers and they all let out only into the street. The dragon had to have been outside at one point and not been seen. It mentioned a 'Cas' but that could be anyone or anything. They just assumed it was a person because it was in the same sentence typed out as 'love Sam love Cas' And before asking to go home. Ok. So Cas could be another word for home? Or another thing like it is?

Damn it! This is so fucking frustrating because Sam's probably right on the other side of that wall and being eaten as he wastes time pacing back and forth thinking about monsters in woods! He needs to know what he's up against, and the only one that has been over there is Oz.

He turns to the bed and crouches down on his ankles to be more at his friend's eye level and to not seem so imposing. “Oz. What do you remember about that room. Like, _exactly_. Where are the windows where's the doors where are the beds, everything.”

Oscar nodded and flattened out a part of the sheet underneath him, dragging a finger into box like shapes and trying to picture the huge room from above to better show what Dean needs to know. “The window is here and it's in the wrong place because according to this, it would be looking into another room. That one is bigger then ours so it should have overlapped with ours and theirs, or maybe further away then ours? I don't know. Perhaps the room is bigger on the inside?”

Dean chuckled. “Like the TARDIS?”

Oscar tilted his head in confusion. “I don't know what that is.”

Dean waved a hand and that bit of info caught him off guard as well. Huh, maybe it is like the TARDIS. Time and space have no bounds? He shook his head. Ok, watch a few Doctor Who episodes and suddenly everything dealing with time is one. Sides, the Doctor looked more human then the thing that claimed to be him.

Oscar went on, “The door is in the right place though, leading outside. There were two humans that I could hear in that room.

“No other monsters lurking in corners? No weapons?”

“There were probably weapons in the bags they had... I don't know. I stay out of that kind of stuff. It only ticks people off to go snooping in personal belongings and there's no reason to if there's food right out in the open.” Oscar pointed out.

Dean nodded in understanding and took pen to paper, drawing out the diagram of the room and fixing it here and there with Oscar's help. It was not to scale but it would help to know that the wall on the other side of his own had two queen beds and a nightstand between. The bathroom was on the other side of the room and another doorway that was not leading outside. It was probably leading to another hotel room for people that stay in in small groups. The window was opposite the vent entrance and according to Oscar, leads to another room if it were inside the hotel but apparently it was just a normal window when he was in there. So, going to that room in Oscar's hotel might not work to get into the other one that way. Man his head hurt bending space like this.

He theoretically could find out what room in Oscar's hotel was opposite the vent and bust through that wall instead of his own. They'd be expecting the wall with the beds to be his entry point. Or maybe, all he had to do was take a stroll outside and walk right in. Try every single door he had access to in that building. One of them had to lead to Sam.

The only other option he had was sending in Oz to fetch Sam. Dean couldn't fit though the vents or walls, but he couldn't risk his friend like that. Oz was so much smaller then Sam and if his Hunter brother couldn't take out the dragon then Oz doesn't have a chance in hell.

Unless...

“Oscar.” He said, hating the idea before it even left his lips. “Silver burns it.”

Oscar nodded, brow furrowing. “Yeah.”

“Well...” he's going to hell, “I have more then the one silver necklace and chain. Other things made out of silver, Sam's size...” He saw Oscar following along and got that tiny brave gleam in his eye. Helping Dean spit it out. “It acted like it burned like acid, unable to strike back, so if someone was to drape the silver chain around it, it might pin it in place for someone to be able to free Sam and get back into the walls.”

Oscar saw the self reproach in Dean the whole time those big green eyes darted from the silver chain on the floor and the supplies bag. Dean had used several tools at Bobby's to make some shivs and flat plates with holes punched through for a thread strap. It was like a tiny shield made out of silver for blocking a monster's touch, in case Sam ever lost his trusty knife. If the thing were to grab Sam while he was wearing it, they'd be burned into dropping him again. It was either that or Sam would be crushed in the monster's hand.

The silver pieces were bigger and slightly more cumbersome, but pure silver nonetheless. They might work. Dean could help Oscar put the shield against his chest like body armor and give him the silver toothpick sized swords. He wished that he and Bobby could have made them better, but the humans were just too big for fine detail, and the heat involved with melting home made swords wouldn't have helped either. Sam was too small to work a forge so they were stuck with using cold silver from silverware and regular hammers. Making a rough but slightly sharp edge to it with wood carving blades pinching it down to the point where it's severed. It blunted Bobby's wood working tools a bit, but worth it to see the tiny makeshift swords. Sam didn't care to use them, they were heavy and slightly unwieldy, not at all balanced right. But they were so small it didn't hurt anything to put them in their weapons bag anyway. Now, it might save Sam's life.   
Dean fetched the tiny bits of metal and laid them out in front of Oscar. Looking at them now though, the 'tiny' sword was nearly as long as Oscar was tall. The shield covered most of his body. Maybe this was a mistake.

Oscar couldn't stop looking at the shining metal pieces. Feeling like a real warrior as he picked up the sword with both tiny hands. It was heavy, but he managed to get it up and point it at Dean who had been frowning until now. Oz was getting a bit more confidence and resolve in his little frame. _He can save Sam_.

Dean lifted up the shield and Oscar slipped the part that would usually go through an arm over his head, angling it better to work to cover up his entire front and part of his arms. Dean pulled it back off and with his fingers and the nightstand, bent both sides inward, curving it into a half tube and gave it back, now it was easier for Oz to move his arms and it was wrapped halfway around himself like body armor. Going from his upper chest to just above his knees so he could still move. It would bump into him but dean supposed he could lift the bottom out away from his legs to keep it from getting annoying. And all he'd have to do is kneel down and duck his head behind the metal bit, and he'd be covered head to toe on that side with silver. Dean would loose his resolve to let his small friend fight if he watched Oz admire what was essentially a 2.5 inch squared bit of metal. Acting like it was the strongest material known to mankind. He had gone back to the wall to listen to distract himself. Still no sounds.

“I have something at home that might help!” Oscar called up to Dean. “My house isn't that way, I should be fine. It's close enough to this room, remember? You picked it so I wouldn't have to go more then a few feet to get to you.” Oscar said and pulled out his paperclip to hook onto the bedspread to climb down. He was startled to see a hand underneath him before he'd gotten an inch down and Dean brought him the rest of the way to the entrance, saving him precious minutes of travel.

“Be careful.” Dean said with worry in his eyes. It was clear that Dean would be in there with him if he could. But he was stuck. “I'm going to check the outside doors while you're getting your battle armor on.” Dean said. He bowed his head and gave a small encouraging smirk, “Lord Sire Oscar of the Knights Inn.”

Oscar flushed and bowed back just before slipping into the dark walls and for the first time since the dragon was brought into the room. He now thought they looked scarier more then like home, just because of what might be in there now. Not just regular dangers like spiders bugs and rats, but now he had to worry about monsters and other universes shoving their way into his home. He took that idea and turned it around. This is _his hotel_. They are not going to make him scared of _his home_ , and they are not going to take _his friend_. Oscar bolted down the hallways on home. A quest to complete.

Dean gathered up all the remaining silver pieces he had and armed himself as well. Wrapping the necklaces around his hands after binding up his bleeding one in a strip of fabric to stem the flow. He gripped his own silver knife in a firm fist and had just enough presence of mind to hide it from view as he left his room and went outside. Heart pumping like mad as he walked those few steps towards the next door down. The knob was hot from being in the summer sun all day, and locked tight so he got out his lock picking kit and got to work. Hunching a little to angle his hands just right. If he could get this done without Oscar getting involved and hurt, the better. Dean had faced bigger odds before.

 

Sam felt a tingle go up his spine when he shut the door to his room. The small and young version of himself must have felt it too because the guy stiffened in his loose fist. “You feel that?” Sam asked quietly, eyes darting this way and that for what is _still_ causing the weird disturbance. He felt a couple of taps coming from below and asked, “Two for yes, one for no?” Getting two more right after. “Do you know what this is?” Sam asked, lifting up his free hand and waving it about. It was almost like a cold spot but in reverse. It was chilly outside because it was March out, but this was like a _warm_ spot. He could feel it was around his chest area more then his head, and it seemed to _move_. Like someone dancing around and _through_ him. Spirits don't feel warm. This can't be a ghost that suddenly decided to show up literally at their door.

Sam shivered out the weird sensation and stepped away and apparently right out of the warm spot. Looking back at the closed door he frowned deeply. “What the fuck was that?” He asked but when he put his hand back into the area, it was just as cold as the air around them. Waving the hand about and finding no trace it had ever been there. He got one thump on his index finger. Tiny him doesn't know either. Sam inhaled the air around him and actually surprised himself when he recognized the scent lingering in it. “Dean?”

That got the smaller man's attention and he squirmed to get out. Sam's fist closing on instinct to keep him from falling.

“I don't see him.” Sam said in a hushed way, hoping to calm down the other Sam. “I just, I don't know. I'd forgotten what Dean smells like. It's been so long since he was human...” Sam said and leaned back towards the door to get another whiff but there was nothing left. He frowned and so many feelings swept though him. “What I would give to have him back to being human again. He deserves it. None of this crap that's been thrown at him.” Sam admitted and debated if he should take this discussion elsewhere. He leaned against the outside of the room and looked around somewhat casually and found no one even close. People outside sure, but not paying attention.

Sam figured it wouldn't hurt to open up to the guy as well. He loosened his fist again and opened up the jacket to look down at the little face looking up. “Dean and I were on a hunt awhile back, we didn't know that... _I didn't know_ that what we were chasing wasn't a Vellum. Nasty creature.” Sam shook his head, grimacing. “I made a mistake. I should have researched better. We ran into a Drauglin and her nest. Dean told me to kill the three eggs that started to move and hatch while he was going to go after the mother not far away. She was huge, and we were woefully unequipped to take on something that size. But Dean... he wouldn't risk her getting loose and taking any more lives. Three women went missing and... and there were three eggs. I didn't make the connection when I killed them.” Sam took a deep breath and saw that sorrowful look in the smaller mans eyes. Already guessing the punchline. “So, Dean went after her, and she got him first. She came back and saw that her nest was destroyed and decided to start over with Dean as her next offspring. Took off with him faster and farther then I could catch up. Bobby and I went back after we had some backup but after weeks of searching the other Hunters had to go after some full form werewolves.”

“Full form?” Sam asked quietly and Sam looked down at him.

“Yeah... you don't have ones that turn into full wolves?” He got a tiny head shake. “Oh. Well, they're harder to track since we don't want to kill regular wolves minding their own business. Anyway. Our backup left and Bobby and I eventually found Dean, but we were too late. He was already one of them. About the size of a horse, he was a toddler and acted like one. He remembered us enough to trust us, and we took him back home to Bobby's. But, we couldn't keep him safe forever.” Sam said and went on with their story. Retelling it to someone that he secretly hoped wouldn't judge them too harshly. Who could he trust to understand but himself?

In the loose fist, Sam took in the story. Hearing the heartache and regret lacing most of it in the rumbling voice above. He didn't dare mention he was getting cold being half exposed to the chilly air, because the fist holding him started to warm up enough to counteract it. Emotions running deep and making the giant flush with shame. It was still hard to believe that this is what he's going to look like in just 11 years. The guy appears older then that, seen too much. He wondered if the hunting life did that to everybody. Probably. Even Bobby looked older, but he had always looked a fair bit weathered, so it wasn't as drastic. Sam found out why Bobby was limping everywhere and was also glad that he hadn't been wheelchair bound for too long. And voicing his agreement that Bobby really should use his cane more often. Sam found the story hard to believe at some points but didn't doubt it because of the feelings lacing all of his older self's words.

“So that's it. We've all been on the run ever since.” Sam shrugged and looked back down again. The cliffs notes version of events made it sound like it wasn't that bad. But living through it... it was hell. And he's responsible.

“It's not your fault.” Sam said upwards and pat the finger underneath him. Getting a scoff and eye roll.

“If it's not my fault then who's is it? Dean tried telling me that exact same thing, several times. I was thinking you'd understand better.” He started walking to end the conversation but the little guy wasn't done yet.

“I don't think it's your fault anymore then I thought it was _my_ Dean's fault for leaving me at my hotel when I was a kid. Sometimes shit happens.”

“Yeah, shit happens.” Sam muttered and the walk to the next room over wasn't nearly long enough. “Look, you gotta be quiet. Please. I can't be distracted now.” Sam moved the small guy back out from the inside of his loose jacket for a second to tuck him into one of its outer pockets which had more room, and he figured the guy would be safe in there. Letting him get off and onto the glove inside. He was a little surprised at how easy it was to get the small guy to go willingly. He was likely used to being handled by giants. Sam's not sure if he'd wanna switch places with him, even though he said he was fine and capable being little. Still, Sam couldn't risk someone so small and vulnerable in this confrontation. And it had nothing to do with messing up timelines, the kind like, kill your Granpa and you're never born, since he was obviously living a different one altogether. “You good in there?” He got two punches, seemingly irritated. He felt one of the legs brush against his thumb before he removed his hand, and maneuvered his finger to tap it once. He had to reassure the poor guy. “I'm not going to start shit. But if he does first, I swear I wont take it personal. I'm not going to kill anyone if this truly is just a misunderstanding.” Sam informed his passenger and got another set of less anger filled taps before his hand pulled out of the pocket. The small dude did not want to be in the pocket, but sometimes we don't get what we want.

Sam knocked on the door.

 

The door opened.

Dean stepped inside and his heart sunk below the ground. It was empty. The room was completely empty. Not only that, but it looked just like any other room at the Knights Inn. The beds made and a slight coating of dust on everything. Oz lived slightly further out then the more frequently used rooms, and the one that he uses when the brothers come to visit was no exception. Lots of dust removal on their arrival. Every time. Hell, he needs to take time out to see their little friend more often. This place looked the same as the rest of the ones that stay empty. No one had been in here for at least several weeks. Dean walked inside anyway. Only remembering to close the door when the heat from outside was coming in and making the air as oppressive inside as out. He slowly sank to the floor.

He lost his brother.

Was there anything worse then that? Dean hung his head and laced both hands behind it, blocking out the world. Hardly anyone even knew Sam _existed_ , so he wouldn't have to tell too many that he's gone. Vanished into thin air on the back of a fuckin' dragon. He couldn't even wait 11 years for them to show up because he still had no idea where the dragon came from... what the date was there. All he had to go on was the description he got from Oz and it's not like he can scour the country and ask every single hotel and motel if they planned on decorating their rooms 'just so'. Besides all that, if he was at all possible that he was the same Dean as that dragon one, he had proof in that meeting that he wouldn't even remember this whole event. Otherwise he would have done things differently. Or would he? The little Dean wanted Sam and got him. But how? How the hell did future him know that they'd be at this hotel? Right now? He sure didn't look like he remembered any of this life that Sam and he had lived. Insisting Sam never shrunk. And who or what the hell is 'Cas'. And how does that play into things?

Dean growled in frustration that turned into a painful yell. Too many questions. No answers. And _no Sam_.

He chided himself for sitting on the floor, wallowing in pain and self pity instead of going back and doing something about it. Oz was his only hope now. Either that, or find the witch that cursed Sam in the first place and have her shrink him too so he could go into the walls and bring his brother back himself. Anything. He knew he'd have less chance then Sam because he had no idea how to live small, but he can't just give up. Can't let Sam remain missing. He stood on shaky legs and strode to the door again, flinging it open before storming back to his room. The other rooms would prove useless as well. He just knew it. And rather than waste time chasing his tail and punching holes in walls, getting unwanted civilian and then police attention, he had to get back to Oz.

When Dean returned, Oscar was back already and working on something close to the bottom of the nightstand. He only flinched once when Dean sat down quickly in front of him Indian style to be more at his level. Oscar held up a needle that was only a little larger then his hand, no doubt filed down to be that short over years of grinding on stone, and the pile of buttons next to himself. He was a fast sewer, Dean will give him that, because before he could even ask, Oscar picked up one of the buttons with a loop attached and brought it down to his foot and slid it up to his knee.

“Body armor.” Oscar said with some pride and got back to sewing. “I got my strips of fabric I hadn't de-threaded yet because they're thicker, and stronger, and more durable then my clothes fabric would be. These buttons here go over my shoulders and these for my elbows and I've got a long needle for a sword in case I can't lift that other one.” Oscar worked as he spoke and Dean reached forward for a button and strap. Inspecting the small things and he gave Oz a thumbs up.

“Nice planning, Oz.” He then set it aside and went to fetch his own needle and thread. Getting to work. So long as Oscar was still on board and thinking ahead, he was not going to stop it. Together they got an outfit worthy of a knight to fight a dragon. Oscar put it all on, adjusting threads here and there and bouncing to see if they'd stay put and beamed up at Dean then went into a fighter's pose that he'd seen Sam do before.

“I think it looks good.” Dean appraised the 'armor' and turned his head to look at the wall again. “Are you ready to go into battle, Oscar?”

He went wide eyed at that. Dean never uses his full name and it threw him for a loop for a second. This was serious. He gulped and sheathed the needle and picked up the sword. His supply bag was gone, replaced with just his paperclip and line tied loosely to his waist. The silver armor that went over top everything was very heavy, so he couldn't deal with anything more that wasn't absolutely necessary. The two silver knife shards came next, one in his fabric shoe as instructed by Dean who showed off his own boot knife, and the other behind his back in case they manage to tie him up, he can cut the bindings. Dean quickly showed him some defense and offensive moves but time was wasting.

“I'm ready.” Oscar said, pushing his voice into one that sounded more confident and brave. He accepted Dean's help getting him across the room to the nearest opening the human had made in the walls. Curling his hand around Oscar before passing him into the hole and down to the floor of the wall. His fingers loosened and Oscar climbed off and pat the hand. “I'll get him back.”

Dean felt like crap for Oscar having to do this on his own. Swallowing back the doubt, he said, “Victory meal is on me.” And pressed his ear to the wall, listening to Oz's soft footsteps for only a foot or two in the quiet space. He had faith that Oscar would do his best, but, fuck. He was just one extra small man in an over-sized world. And on top of that, there was no way of knowing what was happening until he returned, _if_ he returned. Dean sat down next to the opening and waited. “Be safe.”

 

Sam knocked again and waited. The small weight in his pocket shifted but he ignored it, his own personal mini-me was just getting comfortable. Sam looked down after he felt another shift. Making sure the little guy wasn't making a break for it. Surely he had to know it would be pointless. His hand came up and entered the pocket again and got a few kicks for that. He muttered, “Sorry.” Before removing most of it, leaving in his hooked thumb. He'd be able to tell if the little guy tried leaving it now.

The door opened up a crack and he saw a kid with brown hair standing on the other side. Sam's brow raised because the kid was even taller then he was, and it looked like he wasn't even full grown yet. No Dean. Lie.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Sam greeted and peeked inside the room, what he could see. “I'm with the main office and we wanted to know if you've had any problem with rats in the room?”

“Excuse me?” The guy frowned but then looked down at his shirt for a second before his eyes darted back up again. Sam's eyes tracked the movement too and stared hard at the chest pocket. “I haven't seen any rats. Are there rats here?” he asked, worry entering his voice and the door opened a bit more.

“That's why I'm here, I'm afraid. Normally we would shut down and fumigate but there was always someone staying in the hotel. You and a few others might need to stay somewhere else while we spray.” Sam kept going with the ruse. This college age kid kept getting more and more nervous and glancing down at his shirt. Then, he spotted it. Slight movement in the front pocket and the kid must have felt it too because the door started to close on Sam but he shoved a boot in first. “Just a minute of your time! Please!”

The kid frowned deeply and said, “I haven't seen any rats but we'll leave right away. Thanks.”

“Who all is in your party?” Sam asked and the kids eyes blown wide.

“We, I mean, as in, me, and the other rooms that the other people got for the night. Elsewhere. Not here.”

The kids pocket moved again and he gave a wince then polite grin that was screaming nerves before he pushed at Sam's foot. “Well, I should get my things then and go.” He supplied.

Sam put on his 'scary face' and narrowed his eyes. “You know, we don't allow pets in the rooms.” And nodded towards his shirt pocket that froze instantly.

“I don't, I don't have any pets.” He said, sweating now. Sam had to use considerable force to counteract the taller kid, and shoved the door inward. The kid stumbled back. Hand going over the pocket protectively and he reached behind himself towards a bag.

Sam got into the door in one move and shut it in the next breath, pulling out his pistol and lifting it to his chest. “You are a terrible liar. Now show them to me.”

The kid lifted up his hands and winced. “I'm... I can't.”

Sam read the fear in the boys face. “What's your name?”

“Jacob.” He said and cast his eyes down to his pocket again.

“And what's theirs?” Sam asked and got up into 'Jacob's personal space. Gun lowering a fraction.

Jacob sighed and knew he was so screwed. “They're not dangerous, so don't freak out. Promise you wont freak out?”

“I wont freak out.” Sam said stonily. Jacob was plainly holding someone small like Sam in his pocket like a pet... Sam then realized the full extent of what he thought, and even to his own ears, that reeked of hypocrisy. 'I'm not holding myself hostage, and especially not like a pet. It's for his own protection. I don't think less of him just because he's smaller.'

Jacob lowered one hand to open up the pocket and gave a very abashed look inside. “Sorry.” Two fingers reached in and came out with not one, but two small people. The hand turned around and both tiny people got better situated. Holding onto one of Jacob's fingers while they both went for tiny knives.

The shorter one's voice barely carried across the room, “You dare touch a hair on Jacob's head and we'll have yours.” The confidence in that statement sounded so damned familiar it sent Sam for a loop. He hadn't heard it in what felt like ages. Or at least, over 7 months.

“Dean?” he said and lowered his gun all the way.

The small man frowned and glared upwards. “I don't know you.” he stated and looked to his partner on the hand. Another small Sam if the height and the posture was anything to go by.

“What do you want with my brother?” The taller but still tiny man asked and it was the exact same as the one in his pocket. If slightly older. This was unexpected to say the least. He was thinking he'd find some kind of monster of a person that was somehow able to clone Hunters for their own kicks. He's seen weirder things in his life. And the working theory he had in mind for the existence of a younger tiny version of himself is that it was a clone that was genetically altered to remain small. Like a test tube baby that had to mature while still inside the test tube. It made more sense then time travel.

“Uh, I think... I think...” Sam floundered a bit. “I think we should all sit down and talk.” He finally got out and put his hand into his pocket a bit more fully. Pulling out an equally confused Sam. “I'm Sam too.” He supplied once the other two borrowers got a good look at the one on his hand.

Jacob sighed. “Two weeks. I've been hunting with you guys for _two weeks_ and this crap happens?” He then rubbed at his forehead. Brown hair falling into disarray. “Does this happen all the time with you Hunters?” he asked exasperatedly.

Three Sam's and a Dean shrug at him. The oldest one present said, “Not usually.”

“Well, fuck dammit! That's a relief!” Jacob waved his hand in the air nonsensically and got a glare from Dean for shaking his platform.

Sam could tell this was going to be a long day.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is already wrote, I just gotta edit and rewrite some bits. I was a girl possessed today. Had to write. These days are lovely but it's midnight now and I need sleep so here ya go! Less angst, more plot. OH! and have you guys seen little Oscar in button body armor! I had to write it in, the pic was so cute!   
> the creator is MogaDeer http://mogadeer.deviantart.com/  
> http://nightmares06.deviantart.com/art/com-Armor-671102621  
> (If you want me to take it out, I will. I just thought that it was awesome as hell. I mean no disrespect)


	6. I've Got to Keep on Chasin' a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically this is the chapter where everyone's shouting 'wtf is happening?!?!' until Sam jumps out of an Impala that's a hundred feet in the air.

Chapter Six:

I've Got to Keep on Chasin' a Dream

 

 

 

Sam rubbed at his temples. Hand slipping down the side of his face to scratch idly at his scruffy beard. “What year is it here?”

As expected he got confusion at every turn.

Free hand waving about, “The year. What year is it? For example, I am Sam Winchester, hello,” he gave a small wave, “And I'm from 2017.” He started and wiggled the finger his small companion was holding onto, to speak up next. “I'm also Sam Winchester and I'm from 2006.”

More dumbfounded looks before the third Sam in the room spoke up. “Uh yeah, Sam Winchester.”

Dean smirked, “Dean Winchester, I'm an Aquarius, and I love frisky women.”

The tall teenager was last, “Jacob Andris, and it's 2007.”

“Is _everyone_ from the future?” Sam's Sam whined to himself and flopped to a sit. He did squint at Jacob for a moment, knowing he's heard that name before but being unable to place it. Never had seen the teenager before. He pictured his friend Bowman, but what would be the odds that this is the same human Jacob he'd mentioned. There were so many Jacob's in the world, Sam dropped that line of thought. He looked over at Dean and wondered how his older brother was dealing with being small. He didn't know if those two preferred the term Borrower or Little like he does, or something else entirely, so he kept the descriptive term for their people basic, “Have you two always been small like me?”

“Since we were kids.” Dean answered, he'd grown up with Sam knowing that there was no way to change that fact, so getting upset about that human Sam staying out of the curse zone was useless.

Now that introductions were made and no one was trying to kill anyone, Jacob stepped closer to the table, indicating with an eyebrow raise and chin thrust that the other human in the room does the same. All of the smaller Winchesters were set down onto the table by people who were still getting used to the idea that tiny people would appreciate slow and steady hands. The dismount was far from smooth, and the only one used being handled by giants, was at the mercy of the newest human to experience small people. Ergo, no finesse at all. He's lucky he didn't face plant. And _damn_ his hands are huge compared to Dean's. Like dinner plates. He lifted his own hands and a smug smile came across his lips. Wait till his brother hears about that factoid. He stood up a little straighter.

Once everyone got settled, Dean crossed his arms, still the shortest one in the room. Old Sam looked damned _old_ though, so there was that. It was freaky as hell to see his Sammy being older then him by what... he counted on his fingers, mouth moving along. “So you're six years older then me? 34?” He asked upwards and the other Sam shrugged.

“33 because it's only March and in any case, 34 is _not_ _old_.” Sam grumbled. “Grow a beard, kiddo.” he shot back. Now considering shaving the scruff off. How old does he look to them?

Dean ignored the geezer giant and asked his partner, “Where's your bag? Or does Gigantor do everything for you? How did you two meet up anyway?”

Sam leaned back in his chair and sighed. Not wanting to look like the bad guy, he lifted the bag from his pocket and handed it back down. Apparently there was more to this whole mess then one set of brothers and his own family. He noticed the small Dean glare at him for withholding the bag from any Sam, and whispered something to the other Borrower Sam who slung the bag over his shoulder again. “Did he hurt you? Keep you captive?”

He made sure his bag was secured before saying, “Only for a few minutes. I'm fine. He didn't do anything bad.”

Dean whispered back, “You just say the word and we can have Jacob here take him out.”

“Highly doubt that, Dean. The guy is old but that just mean he's seen more action then we have.”

“You know I can hear you.” Sam rested an elbow on the table and propped up his chin. “Look, no one's hurting anyone, capturing anyone, or killing anyone.”

“Excuse me?” Sam scoffed, interrupting his examination of the contents of his bag to make sure it was all accounted for. Turning around to face big Sam, “We were right in the middle of a hunt when Dean kidnapped me! Flew off the table with me like I was luggage and then took off though the halls to your room!”

“He flew?” The 2007 Sam asked, speaking up and looking at his brother. With all of the people there, he was a bit shy, They'd only just started traveling outside of their hotel weeks ago. Out of the loop for too long. Apparently the other one had more experiences in the world. “What do you mean he flew?”

“His Dean is a freakin' dragon.”

“What?” Dean sputtered, “Since when?”

“Long story,” 2017 Sam said and scratched idly at his scruffy beard. “Ok. Look, my initial plan changed now that I am pretty sure his Dean didn't mean to hurt my Dean, but I still want answers and I think it would be best if Sam was with me. All I'm trying to do now is get him back to his Dean since I've got my brother back. Obviously the situation we're in is more complicated than I thought. So, we should get going before his Dean drives off without him, while he's hunting after me.”

“Drives?” Dean asked. “Hold the phone, now I'm a dragon that drives?”

“No. His Dean is human, mine is a dragon, and you are little. Capishe?”

Dean backed up a step from that bitchface and folded his arms to show how not totally intimidated he was. He and Sam had only just started traveling with Jacob and humans were freaking _big_. So to have all that aimed at him was unnerving at best. He raised a few fingers but realized the humans might not see it. Raising his hand next.

“What?” 2006 Sam asked but Dean motioned to the tallest Sam.

“Yeah?” Sam eased up on his temper. It's not their fault for not following. It's hard to deal with all this crazy under one roof. Apparently the two brothers over there grew up basically in isolation from the world until that kid came around. That was likely another long story. He'd only been in this universe for all of 13 minutes, and he could tell that small people were not the norm here, merely going by Jacob's reactions to when he answered the door. Hiding them from view. Dean's voice pulled at his memories but he had to concentrate on what was being said. The tiny man wasn't used to projecting his voice very well.

Dean let his hand fall down after getting the attention he wanted. “Why am I a dragon? I mean I know that his Dean is driving because he never got cursed, right?” Both newcomers nod. “Ok, so yeah, why am I a dragon that can fit into walls?”

“It was a hunt that went south. We made him little with a spell so we could hide him better then his usual size of 30 feet.” Gaping jaws all around. “He's fine. And he's not a 'dragon' he's a _Drauglin_. Dragon is a derogatory term.” He pushed an index finger into the table to silence any denial of that fact. “He's _not evil_ and he's still basically human inside that body. Dane is the Drauglin half and he's cool too. Not all creatures are evil. Remember that.” He addressed everyone there. Hopefully he could help save some lives if the other Hunters ask questions before shooting. “We're working on turning him back into his human self apart from the Drauglin. We _will_ get him back to normal.” Sam said and after a moment to parse what he said, he saw some relieved looks. The others might not have met the Drauglin, but they seemed to be happy that he wasn't abandoned for being a monster. “Ok, so, we better get going. You obviously never saw my brother, and I got to get him back to his Dean.” Sam said and lowered his hand down. His tiny Sam looked at it with trepidation and turned to the other pair of brothers. Knowing that his best chance back home is to stay with the old guy. So, he got on and was lifted up to the front pocket on the plaid shirt. After he'd gotten his balance back and bag situated, he pat the chest behind him twice. Sam bowed his head in parting to the others and headed for the door. Stopping short and turning half around, “Oh, by the way. Invest in Iphones, Netflix, Snapchat, Uber, and Facebook. Trust me. And if those aren't popular or invented here, invest everything you have into Tumblr. It's an online social website, for fandoms mostly. Best thing since sliced bread. Uh, you'll see and you'll thank me later.”

Jacob nodded dumbly at the sudden adult accounting advice, and waved genially. He figured it wouldn't hurt to take him up on the idea. First he'd have to learn how to invest in things. And then figure out how to gather up enough money together to do that. They weren't rolling in cash now, but it might be worth it. Because, why not trust a Sam Winchester from 2017? Even if the guy could turn super scary in a heartbeat. There was no reason for the adult to screw them over with bad advice.

After the two Sam's left, Jacob turned his head down to his hunting buddies, “Did you two catch any of that?”

“Two words in the middle there.” Dean leaned on one of Jacob's fingers nearby.

“I think he was speaking Polish.” Sam mused.

 

Sam made sure the door was shut again and only after he did so, realized it wasn't the same door on both sides. Right. So, that's also weird. He walked slowly back to his room and laid a hand on the handle. His passenger looking out of his pocket up at him. Both wondering if he opened it, if it would be somewhere else. Sam held a breath and turned the knob and saw Bobby look up at him, his brother still sleeping on the bed. A great sigh ruffling Sam's hair from inside the pocket. “Just checking.” he grinned and shut the door again. “Back to normal...”

“You know, you can just let me go back into the vent. I'll go home and all is right with the world.”

Sam considered it. Shaking his head in the end. “I still want to talk to him, and it would be best if you were with me. We might be able to help you out. Teach you some things.”

Sam pouted a little but understood where he was coming from. And, if he can help them out by informing them of potential monsters out there, and how to take them out, that would be pretty welcomed as well. The giant can't really write them all down for him since the papers needed would be far larger then him and too cumbersome to haul back. There's only so much he can memorize from a dictated speech. And they're both pretty sure they can't send an email. He decided to go along without arguing with the human. Sure he wanted to see Dean asap, but if teaming up with someone that knows the freakin _future_ could help save lives, it was worth the extra time spent. There were enough similarities it seems for the information to be useful. Maybe they will run across them back in his world. This meeting of great minds could be a simple matter of the stars aligning and having something good come out of these hard won lives. Cosmic balancing of books, good versus evil. Far larger then a magic room and misunderstandings. What did it hurt to give him a chance?

He pat the chest behind him just as the giant was about to lay a hand on the door knob opposite to the original room. “Ok. I'll stay with ya. But only because you promised to get me back to Dean and for the new monster information.”

Sam grinned down at him and brought up a finger to 'shake' on it. Amazed all over again that he was not only carrying around a tiny person, but that it was him. This is what he looks like young and small. The guy's hands barely covered the end of one fingertip and he lifted and lowered it an inch. Even that was a comically large handshake for him. It's a wonder he's survived for this long.

Sam reached for the neighboring room's door knob again, and instead of greeting Cas, Balth, and Rufus, he got a fist to his junk. “Oww! _Son of a bitch_!” Sam crouched low and his passenger was nearly thrown out of the pocket with the massive swoop that was really just Sam bending forward from pain. Tiny Sam was now able to see the _heinous_ , below the belt attacker. The adult was nearly down for the count, cupping what's left of his crotch.

A four foot tall kid with brown mop hair and a baby bitchface reared his fist back for another nut crushing punch, but stopped short when the first blow made his point. The fist didn't back down however. Aimed and ready.

“What the...” small Sam said before catching himself. The child looked at him with wide hazel eyes.

“ _You little punk_!” Sam wheezed and stood up fairly straight again. He looked over the kid's head once he stood up a hair straighter and saw a tiny figure on the table behind the child. He easily maneuvered the kid aside to see who it was, and yep. That is his brother but about three inches tall this time. Baby teenager. “You're kidding me right?” He turned and saw the child version of himself run over to Dean and snatch him up in small fists.

“Don't hurt my brother!” He shrieked and it was clearly hurting his brother's ears who had his hands to the sides of his head.

Sam raised his hands and looked behind himself, walking back to the door and closing it. No need to draw any more attention. He then knelt down with some difficulty and said, “I'm not going to. I'm Sa-” He felt a sharp elbow nudge into his chest and changed gears. No way would these children believe him. “Your dad sent me?” He looked around for evidence that this set of brothers still had their dad and weren't orphaned like the other pair basically were.

Sam sighed in relief when he saw young Sam relax a bit. The Dean in his fingers shouted up. “Sammy! Put me down!”

Sammy bit his lip before nodding, flop of brown bangs bounced with the nods and he set Dean down gently onto the table. Standing guard next to him. Dean strode closer and Sammy put his arms up on both sides, glaring at the adult.

“Dad doesn't know anyone in town. Told Sammy and me not to open doors. But you broke in anyway.” Dean folded his arms and wished that he had more then just a few inches of height. His brother was just 10 years old, and had no chance against this ridiculously tall stranger.

Sam stayed on his knees, not making a move to startle the children further. “Your dad told me I'd find you here. I was helping him with his _job_.” He looked at Dean and raised both eyebrows.

Dean caught on and told Sammy to let the adults talk. Sam pouted but went to the bed and sat. “Keep going Half pint.” Which got another adorable baby bitchface in return before Sammy went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. Dean looked up at Sam and appraised him. “I can see you have someone like me in your pocket.” Dean started and pointed. “So you were cursed too?” He raised his voice to be heard. “He's the first one I've seen in _months_ that's my size. I can't tell you how grateful I am to know I'm not alone!” Dean chuckled. “Knowing that it is _possible_ to live like this.” His arms went out and showed off his doll clothes.

Sam lifted up his hand to help his passenger down to the table to talk. Wondering if this was going to be a thing now. They seem to be falling into a pattern already. The man hoisted up his bag first onto the hand and got one leg up at a time over the lip of the pocket. Used to doing this for awhile with Dean, but he knew he was still learning the ropes. At least the smaller person didn't give him too hard of a time for it.

“You have to tell me where I can get clothes like yours.” Dean stepped closer, looking at Sam up and down who stood about an inch taller.

“You have to make them yourself from taking apart worn thin cloth and sewing them together.” He grinned at the disbelief in Dean's face. He just knew Dean was going to settle for the slightly too big doll clothes. “Or, you could have Sam rub your store bought doll clothes against pavement until it starts to get that worn thin feel. Looser, and not so stiff.” Dean nodded along with the directions and walked closer, within arm's length now.

Sam raised his hand as formal introduction and Dean shook it. He could guess he was about 14, which means Sammy is 10. “My traveling companion up there is Sa- uh, Sann Tana...” he stuttered. Could they use rock alias's? Would this Dean realize it was an obviously made up name? Dean just accepted it.

“And this little guy is Justin Beiber.” the human said, snickering. He didn't get any reaction and pouted. Right, the overhyped singing jackass wasn't popular back in 2006 either. _Dean_ would have thought that was funny.

The teen gave them an appraising look before answering, “Dean Winchester, and that's Sammy.” Dean looked over his shoulder, keeping his voice quiet enough so his kid brother doesn't hear. “He doesn't know about what all Hunters do, or the supernatural, not _really_. He knows about witches and ghosts and that's it. I'd like to keep it that way.”

“Duly noted.” Sam said and shifted his bag over his shoulder. “We uh, we know John very well.” Sam pat Dean's shoulder, squeezing it gently when it looked like Dean was actually leaning into it. Fuck. How touch starved was this kid? Humans wouldn't understand. A fingertip isn't really a replacement for a full hand on a shoulder. This young kid never met Walt or Mallory, or any other Little. Thrown right into a human's world with no guard rail or safety net. Poor kid.

Thinking of Dad, Sam tried to keep his own emotions in check while he held onto Dean's shoulder. His dad basically abandoned him again after all that time he and Dean spent looking for him. And apparently, no matter where John is, or what universe, he likes to ditch his kids. He held back a scowl at his dad's name and reiterated the story. “John asked us to check up on you. See if you needed anything?”

Dean shrugged, stilling when it looked like the small adult was going to pull his hand away. He turned just his head to look back at Sammy again who appeared to be pouting at being left out. “We're fine. Got enough money to last us a couple more days.”

Sam's knees started to get stiff from crouching down so he got up and pulled out a chair from the table. He noticed the two at the table stiffen at his sudden movements and made it a a silent vow to go slower, steadily. Sitting on the chair he leaned forward to see them better. Watching the two shake out the view of seeing someone so big doing something so mundane. Dean was still keeping a close eye on him, but appeared to be doing better with someone else his size right there, grounding him. Sam wondered if a part of Dean recognized them for who they really were, on a subconscious level. Feeling like they wont hurt him or his little brother.

He sighed heavily at the whole crappy situation the kids were in, and pulled out his wallet. At the last second, he noticed the newer larger faced, multicolored dollar bills that came out after the ''90's, and pushed them aside. Grabbing others in his wallet that looked older. Dean was always money conscious and would think that they were a fake, and anywhere they tried to use them would also call them fake. Double checking, he handed over several fifties and all of the ones he had. He wished he could give more, like a credit card, but all of the expiration dates and info would be useless here. His own family was on the run, and money was already tight, but he _needed_ to take care of these kids. His brother never let on how little they had growing up. Sam was always fed so those thoughts were never at the forefront. Not until he was older and Dean let it slip out accidentally. Sam kicked himself for not realizing everything sooner. But at least, these kids wont have to worry about food for now.

Dean's eyes were wide at the stack of money that folded up to his knees. “You're kidding...”

“That should last a bit longer.” Sam pushed the money closer even though Dean couldn't do anything with it at the moment besides stare.

It was like a dream come true. “It will last weeks! Dad paid up through this week and the next for the room, but he said food was on us. Sam's getting good at ordering takeout.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek. _Hard_. He knew that his own Dean was watching after his little butt by himself when Dean was around 9 or 10, and this kid Sam was about that age, but looking at these children now? He saw how vulnerable they were. Lonely. He wanted to punch John Winchester in the fucking face. Another few feelings suddenly came at him, remembering that his dad died in 2008, and not even the kids in that other hotel room with Jacob knew that they'd have such little time left to find their dad. _Fuck_. What he would give to be running into all the versions of John Winchester instead of all these poor vulnerable kids he left behind.

Dean looked up at the human and tried to figure out why he was giving him those looks. “You ok Mr. Sann Tana?”

That got a surprised laugh out of him and he wiped his face. “Yeah. Fine.” He straightened up and hated how much bigger he was then these two, of all of them. “You know Father Jim Murphy right? Bobby Singer?”

Dean nodded slowly.

“Ok, call up Bobby Singer and tell him that you want to live with him. Tell him where you are and to come pick you up. Child services might be able to work with him in adopting Sam and you should go with.”

Dean's confusion turned to one of horror. “No.. no he's not... tell me Dad's not... not dead... he's _not dead right_?!”

Sam accidentally let a couple of tears fall. The other Sam noticed and started getting really worried as well. “John's fine. He's alright. But. You need to look after Sammy right? Bobby Singer will help. Did you want me to call?”

Dean backed up a bit from the two. “Dad's not dead. Not dead?”

“Not dead.” Sam confirmed, his usually loud voice was holding back some of it's natural force to ease the little guy's worry. “But he's not a good father for you. He shouldn't have left you two alone like this.” His gaze including the other little Sam too. Then realized that the one from 2006 never had the chance to be taken care of and raised with his family. He was abandoned in that hotel he was cursed in by both Dean and John, when he was about this Sammy's age. How did he survive? Sam took a few deep breaths. God, he thought _he_ had it bad growing up. At least he and/or Dean never _shrunk._ Making it that much worse. Sam could do something about this right now. End this before it destroys these kids. He pulled out his cell phone and saw that he had no bars. Right. Of course. This is 1990's. No cell phones. 

“What's that?” Dean asked and Sam put it away quickly, noting that the other Sam was also in awe at it. Right, everyone he's meeting today is used to older technology. What would be the odds that Bobby's number would be the same across universes even if he did get a signal.

“It's nothing.” Sam waved his hand and looked around. Spotting the hotel phone and the long cord attached. Man that brings back memories. He got up and strode on over to it, lifting it from the counter and bringing it over. “What's Bobby's number?”

Dean sniffled and crossed his arms again, tighter. Looking over at Sammy who was watching his feet kick back and forth. He always defended his dad, thought he was the greatest. But, ever since he shrunk, it's been extra hard on Sammy. The roles were reversed and his little brother shouldn't be burdened like that. “I think... I think it wouldn't hurt to go visit Bobby.” Dean wiped off his nose with more force then necessary, trying so hard to keep up a brave face. “I'm so used to dialing it, bring it here.” He said and Sam did so, watching Dean stare at the buttons and then close his eyes, little finger pushing the air in front of him before looking up at the numbers again. Touching the numbers but he didn't have enough strength to push the old buttons. Sam came over to help and together they called up Bobby. Sam set the phone down on its side and Dean walked over to the receiver end.

“Singer Salvage.” A voice greeted and 2006 Sam helped Dean tell Bobby what they needed.

“Hi, Mr. Singer. I've got Sam and Dean Winchester here and they need some help. John left the young boys all alone in the -”

“Cozy Inn.” Dean supplied feeling like he's betraying his father but being brave for his brother's sake.

Sam continued with a hand on the top of the receiver bulb part of the headset. “You need to come and pick them up. John left Sam in charge and I'm not sure if you know this yet, but Dean had been hit by a curse.” Sam knew from his own experience that any version of Bobby would be Ok with learning about little folk so he soldiered on, “Dean is now 3 inches tall and Sam shouldn't be forced to be here without an adult.”

“That damned idjit.” Bobby must have let the phone drop to the side for a minute before his voice stopped cursing and became clearer again. “I'll be there as soon as I can. By the way, who is this?”

“A hunter passing through. John asked me to check up on Sammy and Dean.” Sam rested a hand on Dean's shoulder. It had been years since he was able to do this. See Dean at roughly the same size. At least, without the aide of the Spirit his Sprite friends prayed to. He didn't make any physical contact with the other pair of brothers, because he's pretty sure it would be taken the wrong way. Like he was 'stealing' Dean. This kid didn't know, and looked like he needed someone his size to show a bit of care. Maybe that's why he's so ready to follow and agree with what he suggested. Everything is so ridiculously high over Dean's head in every sense. Out of his control. The least they could do for these kids is get them a better childhood. Dean subtly leaned into the touch even more, so Sam rubbed at his shoulders and the back of his neck.

Bobby didn't want to waste anymore time, “I will be right there. Hang tight, Kiddos.” He hung up and the Sam's knew that he'd be on the road in half a minute or less. He'd be a better father figure, and even if the boys still learn about the supernatural world, they wont be forced to fight in it if they didn't want to.

Dean found some happiness in that thought. Sam was always into books and learning and being Bobby's apprentice sure sounded like a good life. And Dean would have no end of things to learn or work on in the Salvage yard. Finding things in the yard or exploring how all the different cars and trucks work and how to fix them from the inside out. Things were starting to look up. Dean turned more fully into Sam and gave him a tear-filled hug. “Thanks.” Looking up at the human at the table. “Thank you both.” Sniffling into Sam's coat and leaving a thin trail of wetness behind.

Sam hugged back tighter. They both startled at the addition of a few fingers longer then they were. Not doing too much besides resting on Dean's back. Too afraid to do more or else risk hurting the small people. The addition was welcomed and Sammy was looking over into the living room again, wondering what all he was missing.

No sooner than Sam hung up the phone, did someone jiggle the front door's handle and curse as he came in, “Sam? I told you to lock the doors after I leave!” John shouted and froze when he turned and saw a stranger sitting at the dinner table. His gun was out in an instant. “Who are you?” He demanded, deadly calm.

Sam's hand was already closer to the smaller man so his traveling buddy wasted no time at all, diving into Sam's jacket sleeve next to the wrist laying on the table. Scrambling to get in deep enough, the human slowly raised his hands, helping him along to the elbow and just above it, where the small man grabbed a firm hold of the fabric there to keep from slipping down.

Sam slowly stood up from his seat. He looked at Dean who had only  _just got some hope_ in his eyes, to have it  _ripped_ from him. The dream he'd had entertained, crashing down around him. Realization that his dad didn't send this strange man here. Backing up behind the phone. “I was just leaving. I entered the wrong room on accident and saw this young boy all alone. You left him  _alone_ .” Sam's voice quavered. “I assured him I would stay and watch over him until his daddy came back. You're him?” He raised an eyebrow at John's gun.

John looked over to Sammy in the bathroom as the boy crept closer. “Stay back, Sammy.” Sam nodded, scared and cowered into the room further.

Sam's voice was a mix of dutiful civilian, and lost opportunities. “You know. It's not safe to leave kids alone.” Sam felt all that rage build up, but also a longing to make his dad understand that he thought his dad tried his best but sometimes Sam wished that he had just asked someone for help.

“I was only gone for an hour.” Sam heard the familiar lie, others might have missed it. How often John had practice saying it. The gun lowered a bit. “I'm here now. So you can leave.”

Sam nodded and kept his hands up as he walked to the door. Getting shot was not going to help anyone, and he knew from experience how easy it was for this Hunter to hide a body.

“And if I find out you called anyone about this...” John threatened.

“Duly noted, Sir.” He couldn't help but spit out and opened up the door. Hating himself for leaving before Bobby showed. The most he could hope for is that Bobby makes it there before they leave town, but with a gun at his head, Sam was left with little options. He couldn't get into a fight with Sam up his sleeve like that. The poor guy would get crushed in any kind of tussle. He shut the door behind him and it went quiet again. Sam heard none of the shouts from inside the room but knew that they were there. Just, not from inside this hotel front, and not in this time. Back in good ol' 2017 outside. Tears fell and his face became red hot. Sam kicked the door viciously, repeatedly. Jostling the hell out of Sam but it had to be done or else Sam would have shot holes in the door instead. No telling if bullets would make it past the boarder into the room with the two children.

“Stupid fucking idiot!  _You left us!_ You left us  _all alone!_ How could you do this? Fuck you! I hate you! Bastard!” Sam kicked until his feet hurt. He could feel the little man loose his grip and struggle to stay up. Small hands and feet scrambling for purchase inside the sleeves. Between his long sleeved shirt and jacket. Sam lost some steam at the frantic movements and made his arm stretch out and level again, gently poking the lump on the underside. “Come on out, Dude.” Biting his lip when the form flinched away from the contact, curling into a ball. Sighing out more of his anger. “I'm sorry. I'm ok. It's alright to come out.” 

Sam used two fingers to show him the way in case he forgot which way. The small man trembled as he crept forward and onto Sam's waiting hand. His hair was rumpled and he wouldn't look at Sam in the eyes for more then a split second or two. Sam carefully and slowly set the little guy down into a nearby flowerpot with a dead plant in it from over winter. It showed signs of spring in the green buds in the center. Something to look at instead of the fearful looks he was getting. Cursing himself out for loosing control like that.

Sam huffed in the chilly air. Nerves and anger still building, roiling around in his gut with no better outlet then punching his fist on the door and gritting his teeth so hard they hurt. His whole attention back at the door and the father behind it. So many things he wanted to say. Never the right time. “Why did you leave us?” His waning anger turned to sobs. Sliding down the door. “Dad... why did you leave?”

Sam looked up at the giant who was loosing the fight in him, half sitting, half leaning into the door, facing away from him. Fingers uncoiling from fists to graze at the paint peeling wood. Other hand coming up to shade his eyes.

Glancing briefly at the smaller man, he knew he must look so dangerous and unpredictable. Crazy. He turned around and faced out towards the nearly empty parking lot, away from the reminder that their childhoods _all sucked_ . That his dad was dead. Been dead for years and years. And since they never really had a mom to speak of growing up, they'd turned into Hunters and denied themselves a normal family. Turned into adults before their time. They never had a childhood like everybody else. He closed his eyes tight. Willing himself to stop remembering all of the hard times his dad put on Dean. Sam never knew how much Dean sacrificed to keep him fed. Keep him safe. Putting Sammy first and all other needs second. Dean sacrificed everything for him.

Sam saw the small man scale down with practiced ease from the potted plant, and walk forward. With a soft wavering voice he asked, “When did it happen?”

Sam let out a fresh sob and shook his head many times. “Doesn't matter. Our worlds aren't the same. Yours makes it. I'm sure of it.” Sam pushes his lips into a smile and looks away before the thin facade cracks wide open again.

“It doesn't matter what world I'm from, I'm asking when...”

Sam shook his head some more. Lifting up his hands and flexing his fingers in and out. Never realizing how much strength he had in them until he met himself, several times over. Saw himself from other's eyes. “2008.” He mumbled and heard the tiny man gasp and stumble. To him, that's in a year and half, two tops. “It was a monster. One we've never seen before. Ugly. Claws. We uh, we hunted it down and got it. But it killed... it killed Jess. It killed my dad when he was hunting it's family, and afterwards, it found and followed Dean to my college when he was traveling to see me. To tell me what happened. It followed him to my dorm... I wasn't there, so Dean went to the school to see what classes I was in, see if I was in one of them. The dorm is where it killed my fiance, my love, Jess. I wasn't there, late getting to my dorm and Jess was there instead of me and Dean. It wanted to kill us but when it found out I had a girlfriend... fiance... it butchered her first...” Sam wiped his eyes again. He had chased the dream of getting married... but woke up to the brutal reality that comes from a life of Hunting. Breathing hard though the pain. “But we got it. We got that bastard and  _made it bleed_ .” His hands went to fists so tight they turned white. Trembling in the air. Deep hatred in his eyes. 

After he got his anger under control again he said, “My Jess. She was just, wrong place wrong time. An I let it happen. I wasn't there for her. I never told her about the supernatural. I wanted to get away from hunting. That's why I went to college, law school. But that monster... ruined  _everything_ . So Dean and I hunted nonstop for... God I don't know how long. Till we didn't care anymore. About living. Dying. It's all the same. We killed everything that wasn't human. Made a name for ourselves. 'Winchester' was synonymous with death.” His fists released their grip and he looked down again. Gathering up his memories and pushing them back again. The pent up feelings were out and it's done. He can put them away until the next blowout. 

He could see the trepidation in his smaller self. “But that wont happen to you. To your family.” Sam said and was happy at least the little versions of them got out of that kind of pain. “So.” Sam said just to say something, and looked at the parking lot. The Impala not 5 feet away. “Did you wanna see her? A picture of Jess?”

Sam looked up at the giant and then the huge car. He'd know the Impala anywhere from any angle. “Sure.” he said softly. It sounded like the big guy never talked about what he lost. What they both lost. And it was tearing him apart to keep it bottled up. He knew that if he were this Sam, he would keep it to himself too. It didn't seem like Dean was one to settle down with a girl, want a family, a house. Sam wanted a normal life. And it was heartbreaking to see that this one lost it. The least he could do was listen. So he raised up his hands outwards in the universal sign of, 'pick me up.' And the giant put his flat on the ground for him to climb up on his own.

“I keep the box under my seat, you can only get it laying down in the back seat.” He explained and unlocked the door from the front driver's side, and quickly reached back to unlock the rear door, shutting the front in seconds of opening it. He got into the backseat of the Impala and laid down right away as the rear door shut behind him from a sudden gust of wind.

The car rocked violently side to side and Sam instantly coiled his fingers around his smaller counterpart and looked up at the ceiling and then windows. Something had changed. Air pressure. The Impala was moving but not forward. A wall of plaid covered the windows of the door he literally just got in from, and on the other side was clear sky. Nothing else but sky. No trees, power lines, buildings...

A voice came from the front seat and his eyes flew open. “Did you feel that, Sammy? Like the door just opened and shut real quick? I wasn't watching, I was trying not to look at anything at all because you know how much I hate flying.”

“Yeah. I felt it too. Think Jacob noticed? Something trying to get in?”

Sam was frozen like a deer in headlights. Not again. At least this version of the brothers sounded the same age as him and his Dean. Similar universe? But then there's that plaid wall and it's... oh God. It's breathing.

“We're a hundred feet in the air, who'd open the door? Superman?” Dean snarked.

They heard Dean roll down his driver's side window that faced the plaid wall, and stayed perfectly still in the backseat. Wherever they were now, it wasn't Kansas anymore.

“Hey! Jacob!” Dean shouted loudly out the window and the car rocked to a stop, moving more like a soft sway before launching itself up into the air 30 feet in two seconds. “Jeessus fucking  _shit_ !” 

Dean thrashed about alongside Sam in the front, while Sam in the back tried not to loose his lunch or land on little Sam. The small Sam looked about ready to pass out from the massive rocket launching movements. “You ok?” He whispered very quietly and got a queasy thumbs up. Eyes swimming in his poor little head. His index finger lifted to pet at the tiny head and back in what he hoped was a calming gesture.

Dean wasn't done, “Jacob! You son of a bitch! What did we say?  _Slowly!_ ”

“ **Sorry** .” The voice bellowed out deafeningly, and yet sounded sheepishly, all around the Impala. Making everything shake violently around like it was a toy on top of a speaker set to full blast. The voice went quieter and the Impala turned around to face the well, face head on. “ **What is it?** ”

Dean breathed heavily for a moment and leaned his head out the window. “Did you feel that?”

“ **Feel what?** ” The billboard sized face looked confused and squinted inside the car. 

“That jolt, I don't know. It was almost as if someone...” Dean's voice trailed off and Sam had a sinking sensation in his gut at tiny Sam's expression as he was looking straight up and over Sam's shoulder. Mind blanking out entirely by seeing just how large the person was who is currently holding the entire Impala and every inside, with hands that dwarfed her in size. A finger blocking out the sun from the passenger side, making the front doors groan from the pressure.

Dean was too preoccupied to curse the giant out for denting his Baby. “Sammy, um... you wanna turn around and look at this?”

The front bench seat creaked at the other person shifting around in his seat, and Sam knew he'd been seen by both of them. Sitting up slowly with his hands raised, Tiny Sam still held securely in one of them. Trying to disappear inside the fist at the sights around. Sam knew it would have been stupid to deny their sudden existence or hide it any longer. He had questions of his own, these guys needed to stop whatever the fuck was going on with the car. And just for safety's sake, would need to chill on the roller coaster shenanigans, but all that he planned on saying left his mind the second he looked outside the windshield. There was a face. A fucking huge ass face. Messy brown hair longer then he was tall, and squinting brown eyes beneath locking onto his own and he felt exactly what the small man in his hand must be feeling 24/7.

“What?” he stared and stared some more. It was a giant. A full grown fucking giant... and he  _recognized_ it. “Jacob?”

That got more suspicion from the front seat who looked at each other with a silent discussion lasting all of five seconds before both aimed guns at him in two fluid motions. “Who are you.”

“Uh... even longer story...” he said and smile-winced. He looked at his hand at Sam. “Sam? You wanna fill them in? I got the last two Winchesters.”

“Well _FUCK YOU very much_ , Sam.” He cursed and turned what he could of his upper torso, while still held fast in the curled fist. There was no ignoring the titan outside. One pupil in that eye was bigger then he was. Dilating and contracting and all of the little lines inside flexing in the eyeball. Almost stealing away what tiny amount of courage he built up to speak up. Voice quavering, “Uhhh hey. Uh, we are you from a-a-alternate realities, and if you'd just let us leave out this door we will promise not to bother you or your god sized friend.”

The brothers in the front seat looked at each other with features that hardly moved or twitched. Sam adjusted himself in the backseat, still holding up the younger man. He watched the Hunters 'talk' to each other with their eyes and just knew this is what people were talking about with his and his own Dean's conversations. It was weird and missed at the same time. The Drauglin's facial features were getting better at conveying thoughts, but he still missed seeing his brother as a human. Knowing from experience that Dean wants to drop the backseat Sam's outside, without the car lowering down at all. And the Sam up front was berating him with five valid points against mindless murder. Sam curled his younger self closer to his chest for protection. 

None of it was lost on 2006 Sam. A terrifying and sinking feeling in his gut making it swoop and sway along with the car in those colossal hands. “I'm gonna be sick.” Tiny Sam announced. Jacob could not keep the car as still as if it were on the ground. Not possible. The guy had a pulse and it was actually felt by the smallest person in the car far more then the three humans. Not only that, but it was windy up here... over a hundred feet Dean said? Holy hell. The wind alone and hand corrections made it move just enough to unsettle him further. Hand going to his mouth. “Ssaaam?” he whined, “Make it  _stop_ .”

The brothers up front locked eyes on the small man and went wide, both recognizing it for a much younger Sam, and sympathizing with him more then the human sized intruder.

Jacob out front couldn't quite hear what was going on inside, noticed the addition of another Sam Winchester. This one had a beard. The face was still pretty small and hard to make out, but he had a copy of Sam sitting up front to compare it too. “ **Yo, someone want to tell me what's going on? Guys?** ” The voice thundered the questions, and the car turned again to the side so he could see inside the open window. “ **You all ok in there?** ”

Sam in the front seat nodded slowly, pistol pointing back down, he put his hand on Dean's to do the same. He looked forward at Jacob and gave a clear thumbs up and everyone felt the far drop down a foot or three depending on what corner they were going by, it was unnerving as hell, but it was just Jacob relaxing a bit. The car continued to rock and sway a foot here and there. Sam turned back to the other ones in the back seat. He had questions of his own, but it looked like the tiny person wasn't going to last much longer in this environment. “Ok... you uh, you can go.”

Dean gaped at his brother, “Sammy? What the hell?”

Sam gave him a complicated look and Dean relented, putting his gun away and grumbling about flying shape shifters that invaded Baby and are getting away with it. There wasn't any real anger there, he would have liked more answers but in this line of work, he had to entertain the possibilities that these two were telling the truth. After all, they hadn't threatened them at all, and had several minutes of opportunity to kill both brothers before they were discovered.

“You can go.” Front seat Sam said again and motioned to the door behind himself and backseat Sam politely corrected him.

“Uh, not that one, this one, no idea what would happen if we leave out that one. Probably fall to our deaths, and that would ruin my day. How about yours, Sam?”

“Ruin.” he confirmed with a tiny watery voice, hands still going from his mouth and stomach half covered with the big fist around his legs and midsection.

Dean rolled his eyes. Pointing to the other door then, like they were wasting his time and he had somewhere to be.

Sam nodded a bunch of times at their permission to leave peacefully, and desperately wanted to ask, 'What are you guys going to do with a freaking  _giant_ ?' He scooted closer to the correct door and put his free hand on the knob, “Uh, have fun storming the castle.”

Tiny Sam regarded his Sam. Looking at the half blue sky, half Jacob face. Mumbling up at his human transport, “Think it'll work?”

Sam pulled on the handle of the back driver's side door, opening it to the sight of the rest of Jacob's fucking  _massive_ body, dwindling down to the forest floor below. Trees crushed or pushed aside in his wake. The path of destruction clear as day from up here. God help whoever dares stand against them. Sam found his voice again and hoarsely whispered back to tiny Sam, “It will take a miracle.”

Both Sam and Dean in the front seat, said in unison, “Good  _byeee_ .” Waving genially with wide smiles as the strange invaders disappeared right before their eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone catch that blatant movie quote dialog at the end there? eh? :) eh? :)  
> oh and I CAN NOT WAIT FOR GIANT JACOB!!


	7. I Gotta Be On My Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar to the rescue!  
> Sam and Sam have a heart to heart.

Chapter Seven:

I've Gotta Be On My Way

 

 

 

The bright morning sun had barely shown through the curtains, illuminating the motel room by small increments. Bobby sat by the little Drauglin's side, waiting for Dean to wake on his own. He'd heard some soft snores mixed with clipped pained whines. Figuring that Dean was actually saying something in the other tongue, he knew he'd need a translator, and since Sam is off with the tiny version of himself, that left just one other man to help him out. Bobby stood from the bed, wincing slightly at how Dean's small body moved with the bed and settled back down, wrapping a wing around his body to keep the warmth in. Bobby used his index finger to lightly graze down the length of the strongest wing bone, and saw Dean relax more into the t-shirt nest. Mumbling and giving a couple of soft chirps.

“Be right back short stuff.” Bobby muttered and went to the door that joined theirs to the other three members of their group. Bobby had a feeling that something was up after the way Sam had checked in on them just a minute ago. Like he was relieved to see the room as it was. The hairs raising on the back of Bobby's head that something was amiss, but unable to put his finger on it. Of course, something was always going on, but once he figured out what it was, he could deal with it. Until then, this unease permeated his comfort zone like a virus. That extra dollop of strange will have to wait its turn. For now, Dean was his top priority. Sam would have called or texted if he had any trouble dealing with his alternate universe brother when they meet up.

Bobby knocked politely on the door to the other room, and Rufus answered with his usual grumpy demeanor.

“Bobby.” Somehow making it sound like an accusation as well as fond greeting.

“Hey, Rufus. I need to borrow Castiel for a minute.”

“Sure thing. It's time for my beauty sleep now that you're all up.” And without further ado, he strode over to Cas's bedside and shook him awake.

Castiel jolted upright, eyes blinking owlishly in the dappled light of the room, “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get your ass moving. Git!” Rufus ordered and noticed the other bed's occupant stir. “You too crumpet. All of y'all, out. You two chatterboxes have got to go.” He shook Balthazar's shoulder as well who snuggled in further into the blankets. “Not a request.” Rufus growled out and backed off when he saw Bobby hobble over to help.

“I ne'er asked for a morning bell.” Balthazar's voice was muffled by the pillow and blankets.

“Aw hell, leave him be. I don't need the Brit-jit yet.” Bobby said about Balth and held an arm out to Cas next. “Need your help with Dean.”

Cas was up in an instant, limbs swinging about, trying to get himself righted and standing, equilibrium failing twice but he persevered. Rumpled and scared. “Is he alright? What happened?”

“In the other room.” Bobby said and shoved the clothing bag at him to pick out something to borrow to wear for the day. Cas was about to forego clothes in exchange for haste, but Bobby stopped him from marching into the other room. “He's fine. Get something on and come over.”

Cas frowned at him but obeyed, turning around to use his bed to sit and get the pants on but found Rufus already nestled in and cocking his gun under the pillow. Warning well received. So Cas turned to Balth's bed and shoved his best friend over to share some space, batting at the covered rump to scoot over and give him room. Bobby left him to it, returning to Dean's side in his own room.

Castiel found some suitable pants in Dean's old backpack and pulled on a simple black shirt. Dean hadn't worn these clothes in over 7 months, but it still made him feel just a bit closer to his boyfriend. And, it had the added bonus of the looks Dean always gives him when he sees Cas in something he belongs. He felt a warmth in his chest every time, and wanted to see that loving look in Dean's eyes more often. He stood up again and let his best friend reclaim that space of the bed. Like he needed every square inch of it to sleep.

Balthazar's voice sounded meek and pathetic when he asked, “There any chance of breakfast? Please? Cassie?” And got a granola bar flung at his head via Cas's hand. “Million thank you's.” He sighed happily, and a hand snuck out from the blanket bundle to snag the bar, dragging it inside.

Cas walked around the beds, grabbing the over shirt he wore the day before and his tan trench coat on the way to the other room. It had become a kind of security blanket for him, even if he'd never admit it out loud, or even to himself. It just felt right to wear it all the time. But for now, he just brought it out of habit, and entered the conjoining motel room. He noticed Sam was nowhere to be found, and Bobby was sitting on the further bed with Dean wrapped up in one of his wings, inside the t-shirt nest from yesterday. Bobby was facing a wall section that, for some reason, had a vent cover removed.

Cas heard the small sounds his boyfriend was making and came closer, stomach dropping at the hurt within those sounds. “What happened?” Castiel asked again, sitting on the other side of Dean. Gentle fingers hovering nearby. “He doesn't look too good.”

“Thing is, is we don't really know what happened. Sam an I were sleeping and at some point, Dean had snuck out and into the other room through that vent down there.” Bobby pointed out everything as he told the story. “From what we gather, is that there is another Sam and Dean out there, and our Dean hauled the other Sam back here from that alternate reality.”

Castiel turned his head again, confused. “So where is this other Sam?”

“Sam is trying to figure out what's going on. Ya see, the other Sam? Was about four inches tall.”

Cas looked at him blankly. “Is this a prank? You Hunters like to prank people?”

“Not a prank.” Bobby frowned. “Dean slipped through that vent, following a different tiny man through the insides of the walls, and got himself caught by the other Dean. The other Dean is still human and didn't know what to make of our Dean. Thought he was a monster.”

Cas scowled, but had to admit that he understood. He thought that very same thing when he'd first seen the Dragon at that first meeting. Calling it a meeting was being too generous, implying that it wasn't barbaric and inhumane. Dean was a thirty foot tall dragon cooped up in the back of a semi box container while Castiel's boss Michael discussed details of the transaction of ownership. Talk of money and expectations that Cas was only half paying attention to. More interested in seeing the mythical beast up close. He was a cryptozoologist, specializing in the study of cryptids; animals and creatures that were supernatural in nature and origin, that the normal world doesn't believe exists. He'd been hired by Michael to study the monster, and on first seeing him, was saddened by the horrible shape he was in. Knowing that he had his work cut out for him, Balthazar, and his team to get the dragon healthy enough to study. Taking samples from his body to put under microscopes. Learning all there was to know.

Dean was emaciated, drained emotionally, mentally, and physically. His muscles had atrophied from the constant confinements in cages too small for him to even stretch out fully. And it took a very long time to gain his trust and get Dean into a better state of body and mind. Dean had been abused from the moment he was torn from Bobby and Sam's care. And now, looking at him, he felt the same sympathy pains in his chest. He and Balthazar worked hard to get Dean to trust in something again, to have some hope. To see that he's valued as a person instead of an experiment or rare creature. It had taken weeks but their friendship grew to something more. Dean loved him. And Cas quickly saw the human inside the body, and fell in love right back. It felt so natural, but others wouldn't understand. That body was just packaging. It truly is how the saying goes, 'It's what's inside that counts.'

Now? Some strange, alternate reality version of Dean called him a _monster_? How the hell was his Dean to take that kind of news? Weeks of boosting up his self esteem, showing Dean's loved despite what he looks like, what he's been through and done, potentially ruined by another version of himself that can't see the heart inside. Cas refused to believe it. No version of Dean could be that cruel so it was a mistake. Plain and simple. The other Dean didn't have all the information. Cas shook his head, pushing aside illogical thoughts. They'll just have to show that other Dean who he is. Get him to see how great Dean is. How good and kind. Castiel hated how people saw his Dean, talked about him.

Castiel carefully picked up Dean's nest and brought it over to his lap, looking down at the slumbering form and feeling sorrow for his mate going through all that fresh trauma. His watery eyes caught Bobby's, “What did he say?”

“Nothing much. From what we've gathered from tiny Sam, is that after Dean saw how the small kid brother was treated, got it in his head to kidnap him and bring him back here, away from the other Dean.” Bobby's finger pointed down at the bundle in Cas's lap, “He was convinced that that Sam was treated like a pet more then a person. And we all know where he got that worry from.” Bobby's eyes turned cold and hard as he stared out the door at the world at large, all their attackers. Even if Bobby forgave him and Balth, it still made Castiel wilt under the reminder.

Bobby saw his new friends demeanor change. “It's alright, son. You and the Brit are a few of the good guys. Saw who he was on the inside and did something about it. He'd been dead if it weren't for you two, so stop beating yourself up over the past. You changed for the better.” Bobby said and wiped his nose off, clearing his throat. “Now. What's the little brat saying?”

Castiel coughed at that in surprise. Having found out quickly how this family of Hunters bond is through acceptance and insults. No wonder Balth felt so at home with them. “Not saying anything at the moment, these are normal sleeping noises.” His gaze went back down to Dean and noticed the bandages were changed. The shirt and Drauglin were lifted up so he could take a closer look without maneuvering the legs themselves. “They re-wrapped his wounds?”

“Yup. The little Sam said he and the other little guy did it. Dean's arm wound opened up again and they bound it with new cotton gauze. Details says it all. I don't think they meant him any harm, but, you know Dean.” Bobby shrugged.

Cas understood. Sometimes no one knew what would set Dean off, treating him with too much care, or too little. Dean would become upset that the need was there for the gentle treatment, but then the switch would flip if he was treated roughly, remembering past abuse. Toeing the line was tricky, so they were all learning how to deal with it. Healing the mind and heart takes far longer then the body. Trust takes so long to earn, and seconds to destroy.

Dean had quieted down in his sleep and Cas could guess why. They both took comfort in each other's presence. “I think he is resting peacefully now.” Cas noted and moved Dean's nest back to his lap. “What was the plan for today?”

“Welp, gotta wait for Sam to come back after dropping tiny Sam off with his Dean. No doubt in my mind he'll want to have a long talk with that other Dean.”

“I can't imagine that it will be a pleasant talk.” Cas grimaced. Dean had been injured by his human counterpart, and from what he knew of Sam, was that the brother's were fiercely loyal to their family and friends. Sam would not take the incident lightly.

Bobby nodded. “I don't doubt that it will be more then a punch in the nose.”

Both men looked down and noticed a glint of light shining in the corner. Moving along the wall, reflecting the light in the room. “What in the world?” Castiel breathed, holding Dean's nest tighter.

 

Oscar entered the room. The two humans were speaking to each other on the bed, their attention off of the vent's entrance, they sounded a fair distance away. His ears picked up both of them talking about Sam. Listening a bit more, he heard them mention Sam punching Dean in the nose. He gripped onto the silver blade and ran out of the vent alongside the wall to get to cover but was startled from his sprinting when both humans shot their attention down at him at the same time. His heart jumped and started hammering hard in his chest. He thought that they'd be facing the other direction because normally, humans don't sit down facing a wall! They face the window, door, or TV or _something_ more interesting then a bit of _wall_!

He didn't recognize either human sitting there, facing him, but did see the dragon's wing. They were holding it captive and his mind raced for what to do now. He was expecting a fight, sure, but, not with two full grown human men! Still, he had to do _something_ to rescue Sam from these dangerous humans!

He lifted up his silver blade in front of himself. Aiming it up at them with shaking hands. His metal armor clinked in his ears and it was like a tense standoff. He was actually doing this. Lifting a weapon at people that are over 20 times his size. Each one of them could end his life in an instant. With barely any effort at all. His eyes darted down at their feet that were still a yard away, but that doesn't mean anything to a human. One leg stretched out could clear that distance in a second. Oscar would have a perfect view of the bottom of their feet for a split second then it's all over. The only thing keeping him rooted to the spot was the fact that Sam needed his help! So before they could make a move, he had to tell them why he'd come. Oscar opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Breathing was difficult as the one holding the dragon leaned forward suddenly. He yelped and swung the blade in his hands around in circles. Terrified of that man coming any closer. He had to say _something_. Anything. Coaching himself into spitting out the demand.

“You have Sam!” he shouted in a rush and that got both humans to pause their movements. Expectant looks on their faces for more information but Oscar was coming up short. Jaw working soundlessly. The sword in his hands quivered and rose. “I-I-I demand you give him back!”

Bobby smirked at the little guy. So this was the one that had gotten into their room first. He had to wonder if there were any more that were planning on coming out of the literal woodwork to attack. If they had half the courage of this little guy... Bobby glanced from the small guy towards the vent's gaping hole. Already determined to seal it up tight before they get any more unexpected visitors. Assessing the situation and looking all around the room for other possible entrances. The tiny young version of Sam insisted it was all a big misunderstanding, however, they now have a bonafied threat on their hands. He held back a chuckle at that. The guy wasn't even as tall as the shrunken version of Sam. But, he did have balls, had to give him that. Still...

“Cas?”

“Hmm?” Castiel tore his eyes away from the small figure. His mind whirling at the possibilities of small people, communities, society. What did they live on? Where did they sleep? How do they find each other? How have they survived at that size? Their basic physiology appears similar enough to a humans, but can beings that small really think like people? He had proof in his hands that small things can be considered human, despite what they look like, so he stemmed the thoughts and impulses long since ingrained in himself to study this tiny man. It nagged at him though. His fingers itching to pick him up and get a closer look.

“Earth to Cas?” Bobby chuckled and elbowed his friend. “I think you should take that little fellow out to Sam. Pretty sure he'd help sort this out.”

“What are you going to do?” Castiel asked, hands holding Dean closer to himself. He didn't want to leave Dean alone. Not while he was passed out and injured like this.

“Don't worry about it.” Bobby's focus narrowed back onto the small man who backed up a step, the metal flickering and glinting in the light, proving that he's scared witless. “Brace yourself, Munchkin.” Bobby said and bent forward, his hand reached out and closed in on the man, deft fingers lifting and pinching his sword hand out away from the small body.

Oscar yelped as he found a hand twice his size sweeping forward with a speed that only humans are capable of. His body was encompassed in the fingers, two of which jerked his arm up and out, so fast he nearly lost his grip on the sword. He knew this was the end. Once humans grab, they don't let go. He angled his hand and sword downwards and struggled to cut any part of the hand on the outside with the sharp edge. Without a good angle, he barely nicked the surface of the thick skin. A sudden and massive swoop forwards made his head spin. He was brought closer to the older man and held before a face that was huge and calculating. He knew his Sam and Dean talked about a Hunter named Bobby, but this couldn't possibly be the same man. This Hunter was older, and sterner looking then the fond memories the brothers shared. Oscar found that he could still kick his feet and tried to get any kind of space to squeeze out of the fist.

The humans had spoken about his fate so casually, he dreaded the thought of them seeing him as nothing more then a scared animal. Only addressing him to tell him to get ready to be caught. Their will over him was so assured that they didn't even ask what he wanted. He'd told them, and they ignored every word. The older human plucked his sword out of his hands and set it on the nightstand, then flipped him over onto his stomach, and the ring and middle fingers lifted from his back. The index still pinning his back down, with the smallest finger holding his feet. Oscar was laying face down now, able to see the floor and the wide lap and nothing else, and felt huge fingers press into his lower back, pinching at the fabric there and uncovering his spare knife. Before the huge cumbersome fingers could pinch it, he reached down with his mostly bound hand and grabbed it's hilt, freeing it from the back of his belt, and trying to cut the skin of the palm he laid on with what mobility he still had in his arm.

Even Oscar was amazed at himself. His rash attacks. His usual go-to plan of hiding out, freezing and waiting for danger to pass him by, or loose interest in him, wasn't going to work. They already were treating him like he was nothing. Disarming him with ease. He stabbed down and at least got a hiss from the human before finding himself flipped around again, weightless for a brief second before gripped between three fingers, two at his back, a thumb at his front. Both his hands free now so Oscar gripped the knife in both hands and made to stab downwards when his arms were suddenly pinned together by two fingers on the other hand.

“Fast little guy isn't he?” The human claiming to be Bobby commented. The fingers dragged up from his elbows on to his hands and pinched around the smaller blade. Lifting that too up and away from him. He remembered Dean insisting he kept a third blade in his boot but no way in hell was he going to let on he had one more. “There.” Bobby smirked and put the second knife next to the sword. “You done?” He asked sternly and plopped Oscar onto his butt onto a wide palm.

Oscar sat there, surrounded by the curve of fingers on one side, and a pissed off human in front. His poor nerves were breaking under that intense gaze and his body trembled. Trying to control himself, he made fists and held them out to his sides, legs bent and coming closer to himself then how they were splayed out like a kid.

Oscar gulped a few times, trying to find his courage again in the face of this colossal human. Everything in him told him to run, jump off the hand, try his luck falling off the side of this platform made out of a hand, the need to get back to safety but he shut it all out. Sam was in danger. His friend needed his help. He growled to himself to get the right tone of voice to demand, “Where is Sam?” Exhaling a second later, trying so hard to not show how _terrified_ he was at this moment.

Bobby's scowl softened. The poor little guy was trying so hard to look tough, and it wasn't necessary. Sure he'd attacked, but with a blade only slightly bigger then a splinter. He did notice it was silver, and slowly realized he was here to attack Dean, not humans. And yet, the only thing keeping Bobby from trapping this guy is the fact that he was asking for his friend. Worried about him. Not hell bent on killing the dragon in the room. Otherwise this tiny man might have just waited them out, attacked Dean when he wasn't being watched or held by one of them.

Bobby already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from the tiny man himself. “Why did you come in here dressed to the nines in silver?”

Oscar swallowed thickly. Eyes darting downwards. From beyond the palm he was forced to sit on his eyes landed on the sleeping dragon. Seeing that they weren't retaliating yet for his attack, he thought they were just waiting for answers. A glimmer of hope that he'll be released if he cooperates with them in just this matter. Get Sam back a peaceful way. “The Dragon kidnapped my friend.” And then regarded the giants again. “I came to – to get him back.”

“And that's it?” Bobby raised an eyebrow. Seeing the trepidation on such a small face made him ease off. He could tell that Castiel was probably dying for a chance to hold him. Trusting that even though he's a scientist, that he's not going to treat the small man inhumanely. The metal clad kid nodded, brown hair floofy and bobbing along. Bobby nodded at him. “Well,” Bobby adjusted his ball cap and took a quick sideways glance at Castiel like conferring with a business partner, before addressing the small man again, “Alright.”

“Alright?” Oscar asked incredulously, his posture dropping from it's high strung state. His hands splaying out on top of the palm underneath to keep him from falling over. “Just like that?”

“Were you wanting to fight?” Castiel asked and got the small man's attention next.

“No! I mean, I-I-I wasn't expecting...” Oscar cleared his throat, starting over. The humans, while gigantic, weren't actively threatening him, and he started to see them in a similar way that he saw Dean. Big, but friendly. Shoot, he was the one that came in here looking for a battle. But... this was going better then he ever imagined! “I just want him back. _Sam_.” He added, in case they thought he meant the dragon. There was no room for error in this.

“Well, ok. We've already got one Sam, and he's a handful. Not like yours which is an _actual_ handful.” Bobby smirked at his own joke and his fingers curled around the man again, bringing his body closer to his chest so he could lean over to the nightstand again. Retrieving the tiny blades in his pinched fingers. One of them cut his thumb again just from picking it up, and he grumbled at his own fumbling. He leaned back again and opened up his hand, seeing that the man was terrified now. Bobby's heart went out to him. Balls. He didn't mean to scare the kid like that. He just didn't want to make him loose his balance and fall off the side while he leaned over. Bobby couldn't see any good place to put the man so he kept him in a loose fist, and turned to Cas. “Go get the rest of your stuff on, you're going to take this guy out there to them and bring Dean with ya. That boy is doing better in your hands anyhow. I can't understand his speech like you and Sam can.”

Castiel set Dean aside on the bed and got up, put on the over shirt and donned his comfortable trench coat. Castiel came back to the bed and picked up Dean again. Bundled up in the shirt around the sides more, so Dean wouldn't loose more heat. He freed up his other hand and held it out for the other passenger.

Oscar's eyes went wide and he wriggled in the grip harder, seeing himself being passed off to the new human. The fingers were too fast for him to dodge as the ones he was being held in first opened up and the other set came around him in the next second. The older man then opened up the other's shirt pocket and dropped his silver blades inside. At least they weren't destroyed but they were far from his current reach. The new hand brought him up to face the black haired giant. Blue eyes darting over his whole body that was pinned down expertly between two fingers against the palm. Exposing most of him to those intimidating stares.

“Fascinating.” The very deep rumbling voice passed over Oscar and he stared at the face. Shaking all over again. The way this human was looking at him made him feel like an object for a moment. But, that passed and the eyes softened, the other two fingers coiling around him again, hiding his body from view. Another few seconds of consideration under those blue eyes had Oscar nearly whimpering from anxiety.

“My name is Castiel.” The blue eyed giant said and pulled the small man away from himself to give him space. He waited for a moment and cocked his head to the side.

“O-Oscar. But, my friend calls me Oz.” His voice trembled.

“I'm not going to injure you.” Cas's brow furrowed deeply. Voice going low and serious.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Cas. Don't word it like that. Ya idjit.” sighing he caught Oscar's attention. “I'm Bobby.”

Oscar nodded back, the trembles slowing. Feeling like they aren't treating him like an animal, or something evil. He felt the need to apologize. “I'm sorry I uh, I cut you.”

“Don't worry about it. Happens all the time.” Bobby grinned but went back to business. Just because they got a name, doesn't mean that this kid didn't come here to hurt Dean. He pat Castiel's shoulder and it accidentally jostled Oscar. Bobby was about to recommend that all the silver be stripped from the tiny man, but he was so small, that the armor may help them handle him better. Less chance of one of those super small and brittle bones breaking. An amusing image of wrapping the poor tiny up in cotton balls came to mind but he dismissed it. It would have been humiliating for the kid. “Cas, I know you know this, but don't let that metal touch Dean. Silver burns him.”

“I remember.” Castiel grimaced at the glinting metal and turned for the door. “Well I suppose, we gotta be on our way.” Bobby stepped ahead of him and let them out. Dean was pulled tighter to his coat and tucked half inside to hide him from sight. The chill in the air roused Dean a little and he shuffled his body around so that his front half was tucked up next to Cas's belly. Inhaling deeply and rumbling a purr.

'Cas?' Dean mumbled and Castiel stiffened just outside of the door. Bobby standing right behind.

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel whispered downwards and he saw how Oscar was reacting to the Drauglin waking up. “It's fine Oscar.” He said and brought Dean up a few inches to see the small pointed head lift up blearily.

'Cas? That you?'

“Yes, it's me. Are you alright?”

'Tired. It hurts.' Dean sighed and flopped his head back down.

“What hurts, Dean? Is it your arm?” Seeing the head nod once and burrow underneath the wing again, only to fall right out a few seconds later onto the fabric nest. “Don't worry, Dean. We just have to find Sam.”

Bobby surveyed the area outside of the hotel and noticed Sam was walking towards a long fenced in and wooded park area for dogs. Kids play equipment was strewn about before the chain link fence in a more manicured area of the park. Something was in Sam's hands and both could figure out what, or who. “They're over there, Cas.” Bobby pointed but even as he did so, Sam disappeared from sight. Right as they passed into the wooded dog park, the chain link gate that had been opened by Sam, had suddenly slammed shut behind him by itself.

Bobby stared. Stunned. “Huh.”

 

“So that happened.” Sam said as they both stood outside of the Impala. Thankfully she was firmly on solid ground and they did not plummet to their untimely deaths upon leaving the car.

“Giants.” Tiny Sam said. His head still spun from the movements that the giant was making without even realizing it. “Giants?”

“Yeah. I guess.” Sam shrugged and lifted Sam up to his eyes. “You ok now?”

“Better. I wouldn't say ok.” Sam draped himself over Sam's knuckles. “I just... I need a minute. Stomach is...”

“Sure.” Sam said and saw some playground equipment across the street from their motel. Walking away from that whole crazy building and getting some fresh air for himself as well. He sat down and lowered the young man to the picnic table top. At first, he was facing the motel, but then turned away. “There are so many more rooms we have to check.” Sam sighed and saw the smaller man shiver at the thought. “We'll find him.” He said confidently. Noticing the breeze outside was making his new friend shiver even more. Maybe it wasn't just the thought of what else they'll see. He figured out which way the wind was blowing and casually lowered his muscular arm to block it, leaning his body to that side as if he was going to do it anyway. The coat added to the makeshift wall and wondered what this would look like to the small man. He tried not to loom while he was leaning half overhead.

Sam didn't really take note of the shadow that covered him and the area around, so used to being shaded by everything, and flopped down onto the picnic table from exhaustion. He felt so exposed out here. Even with a giant of his own nearby, he couldn't help but feel like he was in danger. He was starting to get to know this human Sam, but there was so much more to him. Would he like what he heard if he asked anything else about this human Sam's life? What it was like to grow up human with an equally human sized brother? Would it influence how he and his own brother go into hunts in the future? Speaking of, “Hey, Sam?” He looked up at the human who had partially covered the area around him when he wasn't paying attention. He pushed aside the notion that Sam was doing it to prove that there was no escape for him, instead, he decided to be grateful for the overhead cover from birds of prey.

The human angled his head down and hummed at him in question.

“So, Dean and I are after this monster and, I was wondering if you've heard of it before.”

Sam bit at his lip. Would helping him out disrupt his destiny? Or is this supposed to happen? He figured that since their lives were so different anyway, why not help? He tried helping the other dimensions and hoped that they got something good from the unexpected meeting. Alright, borderline ambush from their point of view if he's being honest with himself.

“Shoot.”

“Ok, so we've been after this thing for a week, staying somewhat close to Oscar's hotel when we decided to just stay there till this thing is done. His place isn't exactly right next door to the hunt, but close enough. And we always want to check up on him every once in awhile. Us little folks gotta stick together ya know?” He asked but then realized, no. Sam doesn't know. Well, he's starting to get the idea. He cleared his throat and went on, “The monster could be any number of things, Dean thinks it's a mutated monster. Since it's like nothing we've ever seen or heard of. Maybe the offspring of two different types of monsters, we don't know.”

“Go on,” Sam urged, bringing up a mental list of monsters to start sorting. His dad's journal is in the trunk of the Impala and he didn't want to risk getting stuck in it if it meant being right back in the giant Jacob's hands again. Harder to explain how and why they decided to show up once again... kidnapper style. Sam wondered how the hell they're going to manage getting anywhere if every door leads to another world. Looks like they're ordering delivery until this get's sorted. Wondering what restaurants are within walking distance. His attention snapped back to his small companion.

“Yeah, this thing is big, it must be about twice the size of a person and has clawed feet. Leaves four toed tracks everywhere in the woods. It's been attacking and eating people that enter the forest. Police are barricading the paths that people take most often to cut through them, but that wont stop everybody. Whatever it is, it's violent. We have to take it out.”

Sam frowned above. It sounded eerily familiar to him. “I swear karma is screwing with me double time.”

“What do you mean?”

“The hunt that Dean an I were on, the one that failed and turned him into a Drauglin. We thought we were going after a monster that's called a Vellum.”

“What?”

“Vellum, they have clawed four toed feet, fiercely territorial attack any and all humans that enter their woods. This thing wont stop until everyone's dead. It wont leave the woods, but it will kill and keep killing. They usually become migratory and active in the summer or fall.”

“Crap.”

“What is it?”

“It is summer.” Sam said and pulled out his journal, quickly jotting down the new notes that Sam had given him.

“It's spring.” Sam lifted his hand from the table to gesture around. “Oh, you mean, in your time it's summer.” He got a nod back. “Gotcha. Welp. Uh, I don't think you have any rams blood or corral back in your worlds Impala?'

“Nope. I'll have to tell Dean all this, we will have to figure out how to get the ingredients together.”

Sam blocked the breeze again from his little buddy, watching the younger Sam hold down the small pages of his minuscule journal. Squinting to make anything out but the whole thing was just too small. “It might not be a Vellum.” He said after a moment. “There's all kinds of dangerous monsters that love the woods.”

“Like dragons?” tiny Sam snickered and felt a chill go up his spine from the hard look the human was giving him overhead. Tilting his face upwards to see the human's disappointment.

“Like I said before, Dragons aren't evil. Monsters. They're misunderstood.” he said, realizing how it would sound to an outsider. “Look, the one that changed my brother thought she was helping him. Helping the three women she took. All she saw were three small animals, that to her, appeared to be vulnerable and helpless living in the woods. People don't have claws or fangs so she thought she was giving them a better life. She cared too much.”

Sam couldn't believe he was hearing this. That the human wasn't blaming the dragon for changing his brother into a monster. “She still took their lives away. Why didn't you kill her?”

Sam sighed at that. He wanted to. So bad at first. “She was too big. It was just Bobby and I that found Dean and it would have taken more then the two of us to take her out. The military got her soon after we got Dean back.” Sam didn't want to talk about this anymore. But Sam deserved answers. “Look, from what we understand, is that Drauglins are natures caretakers. They just don't know that people only see what they look like and assume that they want to burn down villages and kill people. Mostly, I believe they try and stay away from people. Who knows how many of the things we hunt were actually peaceful, lashing out because they were scared.” Sam wiped his face down and took a breath. “Your monster is not a Drauglin. They don't do that. They don't straight up slaughter people. If they consume an animal, they make it quick and painless.”

“So what is it that we're hunting?”

“I don't know for sure. But what I can do is show you the signs that point to Vellum. See if you've seen them before. Have you and your brother gone out to the woods? Checked out the crime scenes?”

“Yeah. Well, Dean did, I was in his pocket so I didn't see much.”

“We can start there. I can show you what kind of marks they leave on the trees and what places they like to den up in inside the woods. Where you're more likely to find them. It's not conventional dens..., here, I can show you better then say.” He turned his hand to lay flat out in front of Sam. “There's some woods right over there, it will only take a few minutes. After that, I will bring you back to the motel room and you can tell your Dean what you saw here. Tell him everything.”

Sam nodded. Any new knowledge from an experienced Hunter is good knowledge, and packed up his journal and the pencil stub back into his satchel. Pushing things back into place.

“I think I see some plants that will help you in the future too. They're great for scaring off a couple of different monsters.” Sam felt the small man climb aboard his hand and got up from the bench seat, talking about the plants themselves and pointing out where they grow and how to find them. And, if their Bobby would let them, they could plant their own at the Salvage yard as a living stockpile. “Gardening isn't really my Bobby's style, but these plants are priceless.”

Sam carried the smaller man close to his chest to block some of the cold breeze. With his other hand, he lifted up the four foot tall gate's latch and passed through it. He walked forwards from the gate and the woods shifted before their eyes, all around them both. The light changed after just a few feet, adult trees appeared out of nowhere, and he saw something vibrant green and bat-like swoop around through the air, headed straight for them. It was small, about a foot wide and it cried out in surprise when it turned and looked ahead. Moving too fast to stop, the small green batwinged thing smacked right into Sam's stomach with an 'oof!' right after the fist holding Sam was lifted up and away from the impact zone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter might be a bit slow paced, but it can't all be doom and gloom! The next chapter will be posted quicker since it's already written, just needs editing and some pizazz! A certain Leafwing is impatient for his turn!


	8. Wish There Was Something I Could Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bowman and Knight Sam have a very rough first meeting. It goes about as well as one would expect when two giants capture them on their own turf.

Chapter Eight:

Wish There Was Something I Could Say

 

 

 

Bowman Leafwing had been flying for hours now, getting tired but the day wasn't over yet. Thankfully, the sun was out and he was getting some much needed energy from its warm rays on his wings. Absorbing every glint and shimmer he could get between the thick trees. He and his brother were going to inspect the very tall gate that was covered with vines and thorns to ward out trespassers. After meeting Jacob, they got the go ahead from the council to check it out, make sure that it was secured after the tall human left their lands a week ago. His brother had promised to translate the words on the other side of the sign for him, since Bowman's human language skills were lacking when they were written down. Too boxy and strange. Written on straight horizontal lines instead of the normal sprite script. Flowing, natural and elegant. Of course, many human things were simply too strange to him, their obsession with right angles was one of them. Their inventions baffling at best. Over-complicating everything they touch. They can't just wear clothes, they have to add 'zippers'. And they can't just sit and listen to nature, they have to play music from that 'ipod'. Loud and crass. Sounds unimaginable coming from the 'speakers'. But, his brother seemed to like the music, so Bowman decided not to chide him too much for it.

The gate was up ahead of them, and there was a wide open area between the trees and the fence so he had been gliding leisurely in an arch, waiting for his brother to catch up. Bowman was _not_ expecting a blasted human to suddenly _appear_ in front of him out of the blue and ran right into their stomach! His momentum was mostly at fault and not his reflexes because he would have avoided the collision had he been watching where he was going instead of looking behind himself. But really, there was literally _nothing there_ a blasted second ago! The collision didn't hurt as much as it could have, he managed to swing his feet forward to absorb some of the shock, but he still slammed right into the clothed wall with considerable force. His wings were flat out across the human's stomach so when he bounced off, he couldn't right himself fast enough and started to fall backwards, getting a look at the startled humans face for a split second before something came up quickly from underneath. He fell on top of it and then it split into five smaller parts curling around his breathless form.

Bowman had only a second to fold his wings before the long things curled completely around him, turning his body to be more upright and launched him in a loose fist on up to the human's stunned face. He was caught. The chill going up his spine made him shiver at how fast it all happened. One second he was flying, the next, captured by a strange human that appeared out of nowhere! He was turned this way and that, giving the very tall man a good look at his wings and body. Memories popping up from when Jacob did the very same thing. Only this one, wasn't nearly as surprised. A mild irritation crept onto his face as Bowman was lowered down and the man turned around to face the fence with a scowl.

 

 

Sam had good reflexes and caught the flying thing before he fell to the ground. He had acted on impulse to grab after the thing started to fall backwards. Only after it landed in his hand did he make out that it appeared to be a small person like the others he'd encountered, but this one had wings. And they did not look detachable. The green hair was also something else, it didn't appear to be dyed that way, so it grew in green. Sam took a second to look the thing over, noticing the wings looked like leaves but fragile so he made sure to keep his grip very loose. Putting no pressure on the small person's body, but the fingers would keep it from escaping with how they were curled around like a soft cage.

Sam knew now, that whatever crap they were experiencing all day, had something to do with _any_ kind of door. Even a see through chain link fence and gate that on the 2017 side was only four foot tall. He had clearly seen the thin young trees, but now it was like a thousand year old forest ahead of him and all around. Sam scowled and turned to face what stood there now. A very tall fence covered in vines and thorns was there for at least 50 years going by the state it's in. He side eyeing it with growing agitation. “It's not even a proper door!” Sam grit out, sighed at the world at large. If he didn't have someone in each hand, he would have flung them out to show his exasperation even more.

He saw something waver in the air, like a concentrated oval shaped ripple on water, but with the trees and plants waving instead of blue water. They watched mesmerized as someone stepped through the shape and the visual discrepancy dissipated as fast as it appeared. There for only the two seconds it took for the person to take a three steps forward. Sam realized he knew that person, it was his friend Cas holding his small Drauglin brother, and some other small person, seemingly out of thin air. But before Sam or Cas could say a word, to talk about what the hell just happened, they saw a second green blur shoot out of the woods in the same direction that the green winged dude came from.

A battle cry came from the newcomer as it nearly missed hitting Castiel the same way the first dude hit Sam. Obviously going for a surprise attack but not actually touching either human. Cas was still reeling from being transported to another place and stumbled back from the fast moving thing that was angrily yelling at him. He could make out that it was green and had wings but the wings didn't flap at all, they glided as it swooped right in front of him on up from below.

Cas had his hands full with Dean in his shirt nest and Oscar in his other so he couldn't reach out and catch the wide projectile. Both of the men in his hands were still jolted forwards and then back and out to keep them from being hit if the thing came back around, pulling them back to his chest and stomach to block them from attack. Sam too brought in his own two close to himself for the same reason so neither human was able to do anything about the flying green thing that was shouting curses at them. It would have been amusing if they weren't scared for the safety of the people in their hands.

The new arrival was able to bank left and avoid being caught, he angled the flier down in a spiral to stay close. “Bowman! Hang on!” The voice desperate and angry over the situation.

All of the others looked with mixture of awe and confusion at the newest arrival. Sam felt his younger self squirm in the grip to turn around and see what the hell was happening. Sam realized that he'd had him nearly completely covered and loosened the fingers, allowing the young man to move where he wanted.

“Bowman?” Sam finally got a good look, noticing the green winged sprite in Sam's other fist. He knew he recognized that voice but seeing it for himself confirmed it. Somehow they were transported to Bowman's forest! So that's what Sam meant by it not being a proper door, he could see the top edge of the fence and gate behind and above Sam's body. He felt the second human standing there looking at him and the tingle on his neck shot up to red alert. Who is _that_?! The other human had poor Oscar in one fist and the dragon in the other arm. Was he a friend? One quick look upwards confirmed that Sam wasn't worried about him, so he must be alright. Still, in those brief seconds, he saw how scared Oscar was of everything but before he could call out, another voice came from the ground.

Sam landed his glider as quickly as possible to a patch of short plants for a rough and dirty landing just so he could get on his own two feet faster. He ripped off the buckles and straps that kept him tethered to his glider and used some mixed curses. “Blasted fucking giants!” Jumping down the side of the short plants to cushion the sudden descent to get to his brother asap. Brandished his sword, he chopped his way out of the foliage and gathered up every ounce of courage he had. Those humans captured his brother and were holding him in a fist! He knew not all humans were friendly and this one was proving that point by keeping Bowman captive. His love for his family driving him to approaching the humans. He had no chance against one, even less against two, but he'd be damned if he let his brother down. Let him get taken away without a fight. Sam lifted his sword up into the Knights fighting stance and charged full on. He was too far to go back for help, his fellow Knights were elsewhere, inspecting the long length of the fence for any other breaks since Jacob's departure weeks ago. Sam had no backup besides Bowman for at least half a mile. They never encountered humans before Jacob, but he guessed the dam was broken, and now humans were going to be a regular threat to his home. But, these two will not leave without due punishment for this atrocity! “Put my brother down or I'll slice you in two!

Bowman was proud of Sam, his bravery in the face of this unbeatable challenge, but more scared for his brother's life. Bowman cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Turn around, Sam! Save yourself!” but he saw his older brother refuse. Continuing the trek across the clearing towards certain death. “Blast it! Go!”

In Sam's other hand, Sam pushed himself up and the fingers let go almost entirely, the human obeying the silent command to make his hand into something more like a platform. Sam grabbed a finger to steady him and turned to the winged sprite, “Bowman! Don't you recognize me? It's me! Sam Winchester!”

Bowman finally stopped struggling long enough to really look at the other captured person and gaped. “ _Sam_?”

“Yeah.” He said, hands out to show he has no weapon on him. “It's fine!”

Bowman's expression of disbelief was clear for everyone to see, save for his brother down on the ground. Bowman scowled in confusion and looked back down at his brother who was indeed, still charging after them with the small sword glinting in the sunlight, he was making good progress for having such a long distance to run. The ground of the forest is never level so his brother always had a hard time navigating it as fast as the sprites who just flew above it most of the time. What Sam lacked for wings, he made up for in strength. The biggest one of them back in their community. Strongest. He was well respected for a Knight and served them well over his long life here, ever since he'd arrived as a young scared child, lost in the woods at a small fraction of his former size. He found a new family and home here, learned how to fit in and help it flourish, and he was not going to let anyone steal his family or home away from him again!

Cas stepped closer hesitantly, eyes glued to the tiny figure on the ground, watching the sharp sword warily, in fear of his ankles. He leaned into his tall friend. The only one here besides Dean in his arms that he could trust without question. “What is going on here?”

Sam sighed and shrugged, both of his passengers moving along. The green winged guy fearfully gripped tighter to his index finger, while the other Sam just gave him a dirty look for the unexpected move. “This has been going on all morning.” Watching the small green Knight still advance, sword waving about in front of him, loosing some of his steam. It was a pretty wide clearing.

“Bobby said, um. That you had a young uh, _you_ with you.” Castiel muttered and Sam nodded in his periphery. “But, that sounds like your double down there. But he's right here.” Indicating Sam's hand where that one waved shyly. Castiel would have politely waved back, but Oscar was curled up into a ball inside his hand and Dean was asleep again. “But it can't be _another_ Sam down there... can it?”

“Yep.” Both Sam's said, watching the running green Knight progress ever closer to his nemesis.

“So this makes sense?” Castiel was only getting more and more lost. His head couldn't tilt any further.

Sam used his human's jacket to climb up to the slumped shoulder to free up one of the human's hands. The body underneath his hands and feet stiffened immediately, half his attention split between the tiny attacker down below and keeping still enough to not throw off the little guy.

“About as much as anything else.” Tiny Sam said and leaned way over to watch as the green Knight version of themselves started to hack away at big Sam's pants to get to his ankles. Slicing it to ribbons with quick deft moves. The blade was thinner and therefore sharper then any human's. Sam stepped back, making the small green man advance again with an outraged growl added into the grunts of exertion. No doubt insulting him with how easy it was to avoid contact. His shoes were pretty tough to get through, but damned if the green Knight wasn't trying his best to cut through the thick leather.

2006 Sam sighed and turned to see the side of Sam's face. “Let Bowman down.” And then an idea hit him. Hating himself immediately for it for how it's going to sound. “Wait! Don't. Not yet.”

Bowman had a flash of gratefulness then hatred at the words. “Who's side are you on? Let me down!” He shouted, tempted to bite down on the fingers that were keeping him in. The human had brought over his newly freed hand to help keep him hostage. More room inside the fingers didn't mean anything to Bowman since he was still held against his will. Angling his ire upwards, “Fly into a thorn bush and flail! You blasted giant!” He then struggled to face his brother, realizing that Sam wouldn't leave to save himself, but might if it was to get reinforcements. “Sam! Go get help!”

Sam was too preoccupied watching the small conversation to realize that the green one had leaped onto the shoe to cut the pant leg out of the way to get to the Achilles tendon. Feeling the edge of the blade against skin once the cloth of the jeans were sliced wide open. He lifted the foot in the air and gently shook it to dislodge the small man without hurting him. At least he caught on what the dude's intentions were before blood was drawn on either side. Knowing it must be hard to attack and hold on simultaneously. Sam was left to hop around on one foot until Castiel came forward and let Sam lean against his side for balance. “Get offa me!” Sam wiggled his foot again. The Knight trying his best to keep stabbing through the loose pant leg but getting the space between the ankle and jeans.

By this time, Cas had carefully slipped Oscar into his large side trench coat pocket, and crouched down to the green armor clad Sam still dangling there. “Remarkable.” He said in wonder and reached forward to relieve his friend of the small attacker.

Sam put his foot back down and sighed in relief that he didn't fall over, taking the others along with. He could have accidentally killed the two small Sam's _and_ this Bowman guy. Maybe even take out the tiny dude that Cas was carrying around as well, if he instinctually reached out and tugged on Cas's coat to slow his fall. There were too many small people! Sam felt like a giant monster with all these fragile little lives all around him. All he wanted to do was show Sam some plants and how to track a vellum! Is it too much to ask? Now instead of just one little guy, there's _four_ and oh yeah, his tiny injured brother is out here in the fairy riddled mystical fucking forest too! Perfect! Sam grumbled to himself and glared at the sky. Daring any more weirdness to rear their faces his way. Why tiny people? Why can't he be running into beautiful young women all the time? He doesn't dislike the tinies themselves, they're all good people, when they aren't trying to maim him, but it does make him feel like a giant clumsy monster to be around so many!

Young Sam ignored Sam's internal whining, and punched at his neck for the wild ride, before sitting back down between the two collars.

Castiel's fingers curled around the small man and made sure that the hands holding the hilt of the sword were held outwards so he couldn't keep cutting them. Castiel had some experience holding small dangerous animals, so he had some experience incapacitating the man without hurting him or even disarming him. The sword looked very sharp and gripping it in any way, would slice open fingers. It was best to keep hold of the hands instead with the pads of his thumb and index fingers. Castiel stood again, holding the small man up and turning him around to study him closer to his face. “Sam?” He addressed the green man. “Your name is Sam correct?”

Bowman punched at the fingers around him that refused to budge, “Pray to a rock!”

Knight Sam tried his best to yank the sword towards himself but found his mobility was gone. Legs firmly tucked inside the last three fingers while the thumb and index forced his hands out forward from his chest. Pissed, he shouted up. “Of the Wellwood Knights! You should remember that so you know who's going to defend Wellwood until their dying breath!”

“I assure you, that's not necessary. No one is going to be hurt here.” Castiel said and hoped that that was going to be the case. His friend standing next to him was a Hunter and the being that Sam had captured wasn't exactly human. It seemed like Sam was being as careful as he was with their captives. In all honesty, Castiel was still trying to wrap his head around the physiology of all these small people. As well as the inexplicable sudden transportation into these woods. So many questions and no answers as of yet.

“Says the giants going around _capturing_ people!” Bowman kicked at the fingers some more. His fear was being held back by his anger. “Are all giants this stupid? Believing this is the way to make new friends? You can't fool me by making yourself look like my brother! Some kind of human magic we _wont_ fall for!” Bowman's wings were held tight to his back to keep them out of harms way. He was forced to crouch down if he wanted to turn and face his brother being held by the other giant. At least the hands he was being caged in didn't close in on him. But they were making him feel vulnerable and helpless. But Sam had to think that he was strong willed enough to survive long enough for him to get free and leave to save himself, or get help. Bowman's backup plan was to stall the humans long enough for the next patrol sprites to make their way here to see why there was a delay on reporting back their findings.

Ever since the Jacob incident, they had contingencies made up for anyone's disappearance. Stricter rules on returning back to their post to report findings. Even if it was reported that they found nothing abnormal in the forest. Of course, accounting for normal delays, their scheduled time here at the fence wasn't going to expire for another hour since they'd only _just arrived_ at the fence when these two humans showed up. Anything at all could happen before they're marked as missing.

Bowman's eyes went wide when he finally noticed something moving in the other giant's arm. He thought it was a bundle of food, toasted bread perhaps, supplies for the human's trip here, but it was something else entirely strange and monstrous. His jaw dropped and he was speechless at the sight of it.

Dean lifted his long neck from his nest and pointed his nose upwards, squinting in the light beyond his mate's head. His wings ruffled a bit, it was warmer out and he wanted to soak in the heat surrounding him. One dappled brown wing opened and hung loosely down Cas's arm. 'Cas?' Dean rumbled out, focusing a bit more on what's going on around him. When Cas knelt down and stood he'd roused from his dozing nap. The raised voices were cutting into his sleepy time as well. He couldn't make out much beyond the cloth nest before. Just knew something flew at them, and that it was pissed and talking to them. The general scents in the air confirmed that everyone here was on edge, scared or pissed off. And one of them did not smell the least bit human. Dean flopped his head around to look at the green thing in his mate's hands. 'What is that fairy talking about?'

“I don't believe this one is a fairy. No wings.” Cas mumbled more or less to himself. He brought the green one up and over to Sam's winged man for comparison. Their clothes and speech were nearly identical, they truly cared for each other. But their physical appearances were very different. The one called Bowman was darker skinned, and that green hair suggests that Sam was adopted into the family. His accent and speech sounded like it was straight out of a movie. But not a recent one. Indeed, the Knight in his hands looked much younger then his friend. Neither of the green clad people saw Sam as Sam. Perhaps it was the older age longer hair and the scruffy beard? Or perhaps it was the fact that he was a 'giant' to these two. Neither would believe that Sam could be a human, so it didn't cross their minds to take a closer look. Despite the fact that he called Sam by name. Or like the winged Bowman said, that he thinks it's all magic performed to deceive them. Castiel was still coming up with a nice way of asking _what they are_ , when the Sam sitting up on Sam's shoulders called out.

“Bowman! Sam! Look, I know you guys came from Wellwood, and you've got healers there right? You pray to your Spirit and she grants you the gift of healing?”

Bowman stiffened up and shot looks at his captured brother and then the freed Sam. Confused as to how the blasted hell he knew that. Fear of how they knew their secrets despite only having just met minutes ago. “Ye-ess?”

Sam sat up straighter, brightening at the confirmation. “Cool! Then could you help out my friend over there? He's been hurt and isn't doing so hot.”

Both of the men of Wellwood looked to where he's pointing, and saw Cas gently holding up the injured dragon. Oscar's small form was still in the deep pocket, wiggling away. His voice carrying a little, “Hey guys?”

“Right! Oscar!” Sam leaned forward and shouted down, “You ok, Oscar?”

“Fine... I uh. I don't mind it in here.” Oscar sounded very embarrassed for having voiced his preference like that, but the fact remains is that the world was very _big_ , very bright and filled with even more dangers now. This pocket felt safer then being out there. His mind reeling at all of the possibilities of being stabbed by that Knight... a _real live_ _Knight_! Or taken away by the green winged man, or by a passing bird, or any one of the animals in this huge forest. He'd barely ever left his hotel and all this was too much for him at once. He dressed up like a Knight, but at the moment, they didn't actually need one, so he consoled himself with that fact, and would hang back for now.

Sam called down to his friend who sounded like he was just fine chillin' in a pocket. “Ok, Oz. Let us know. Alright?” Adding any more to that sentence would only add insult to injury. They didn't need brave heroics at the moment, just a calm discussion. The Bowman that he'd met before in his own world was going up against zombie wolves and a blight that was killing his forest. An evil Lich that nearly sucked the life out of his home. Thankfully, they were able to stop it in time. It seems as though this Bowman never had to deal with the Lich, or, hadn't yet. Of course, the other Bowman never had a brother called Sam. He might not be so willing to assist. But, it was worth a shot to help out Dean. From all he's heard and seen, the Drauglin didn't deserve to be in so much pain.

“Ok, what the hell is going on?” Knight Sam asks, sword going lax in his bound hands. He's ignored for a minute and gives everyone a royal bitchface for it.

Sam stood up from the collars and scaled down the jacket to stand on the right arm, close to the elbow for stability as he grabbed onto the jacket and had his other hand out and open, palm up like he was offering it in friendship. “Bowman. Please help us out.” He asked softly and looked up to Sam. “Let him go.”

Sam nodded and opened his hands slowly, Bowman took to the air the second he was able and fluttered around Castiel. Just out of reach but wanting to dive in and save his brother. He had so many insults and curses on his tongue but held back for his brother's sake.

Sam didn't take it to heart that Bowman didn't take his hand. Turning to the other human, from what he'd heard, Cas was a scientist that studies mythical creatures and he thought it might be difficult to get this one to listen. Confident his Sam would step in if this human stepped out of line. “You're Cas?” and saw the trench coat clad person nod. “Let Sam down. We gotta stop _kidnapping_ everyone. Like Bowman said, that's no way to make friends.”

Knight Sam gaped for a second when Cas stopped examining his unique clothes to frown, embarrassed to be called out on his curiosity.

Cas cleared his throat and said, “I swear I wasn't going to keep you captive.” He address the green Knight. “I just find your clothes and skill so _fascinating_ and _amazing_. Please forgive me.” He then slowly bent forward and let Sam down onto the ground. Castiel felt his pocket shift with the slight weight and reached inside to retrieve Oscar once again. Cas held his hand out with the man going to a sit for more stability. Addressing him next. “Before I return you to your Sam, I wish to know something very important. Were you still planning on hurting my boyfriend with all this silver?” He frowned at the smallest man there and Oscar shrunk back, shaking his head so fast his hair flew all around his face.

“ _Boyfriend?_ ” 2006 Sam sputtered out from his perch on Sam's arm. “Dean's your _boyfriend_?”

“ _Dean's_ here?!” Knight Sam shouted up, excited. “Where is he?!” Looking behind the humans and all around himself. Heart beating faster and his head tried to make sense of it all. Why there were copies of himself standing here. Who this Cas person was. What the deal is with the winged animal in his hands. He thought Dean gave up on him, or left him for dead so many years ago. Did his brother discover a way to find him? Did it backfire and that's why there's so many Sam's here? His mind whirled at the thought that his brother simply recreated a younger brother instead of trying to find him again, but then why are these guys all here? Talking about Dean as if he's present? Sam felt dizzy but hopeful as he continuously looked around for someone with blond spiky hair, freckles and green eyes. His memories of his brother fading with time but those still stuck with him.

Castiel held the dragon out a bit more, nodding down at him. “This is Dean, and he's been injured. He needs help.”

'Cas, I'm fine.” Dean grumbled, still mostly out of it.

Sam felt like he'd been punched. Breath knocked out of him. The hope crashing down faster then his glider in a downdraft. “No.” He whispered.

Dean shuffled around to face outwards, away from Cas's stomach at the world around them. He squinted at the flying green blur. 'What the hell is that?'

“I believe it's a fairy, Dean.” Cas said, looking up to where Dean was aiming his nose.

Bowman was hovering out of reach but still tried to get a good look at 'Dean'. His head was so far past paying attention to anything other then the small creature that the human had been carrying around, calling it by the same name as Sam's long lost brother. These things _don't happen_. Bowman's brother seemed to want to believe this wolf dung. The idea that after all these years, Sam finds his family again, but it's something that even the Earth Spirit herself couldn't have imagined. Sam's Dean should have been a _human_ , not this... thing. Bowman wished that Sam was more skeptical about what the intruding humans were saying. He wished his brother had a lick of sense in him to start running for his glider. Get away from this poppy sickness. Bowman reluctantly came to the conclusion that even if he did, the leaf glider was deeply wedged inside the short plants across the clearing. It would take far too long to get it pulled out and ready to fly. The giants could take their time to recapture them if they wished. So, they were stuck here. With _them_. Might as well make conversation till the other patrol sprites and Knights get here. The 'Cavalry' as Sam called it. All these thoughts happening in mere seconds with his mind buzzing as fast as it is.

“You understand it?” Bowman asked, swooping around to check up on his brother, making sure he was Ok on the ground. He would have lifted his brother up to see better if he'd had the strength, but Sam was five years older and overall bigger then him. They were the same height wise, but Sam had the muscles and power behind them. That didn't mean much against these blasted humans though. At least they weren't trying to grab again. He had to be ready for it if they did, but, Bowman's small knife had fallen down somewhere, and he sorely missed it. He had to not only watch the humans and other wingless sprites, but now there was a winged creature with spikes and sharp fangs that was intelligent enough to speak. Of course it was not in any kind of normal language. There were growls and chirps unlike any living thing in memory. Bowman doubted any sprite alive had heard its kind before. The long haired giant spoke up next, making him drop several inches at the sudden volume.

“I understand Dean too. Cas an I did a spell to help us understand his speech. He knows the alphabet in sign language but I'm guessing you all don't...” He nodded to himself. He and Cas and the others in their small group know the ASL alphabet, but that's it. No time to learn the whole American Sign Language. It is just like any other language, and can't be translated into direct English. The ASL has its own terminology, sentence structure, ideas and words. Other countries have their own different sign languages, and it's false to think that it can substitute for a universal language. Since it would take too long for a young Drauglin to memorize an entirely new language, they stuck with the A-Z alphabet and were able to make it work, even if they had to spell out everything, and it usually takes time. It was better then going solely on body language like they had been at the start. But that doesn't matter right now. “He understands English so you can simply talk to him, and we will gladly translate his words back to you.”

Bowman was finally seeing the giant at a better angle, he could understand how this one could _also_ be a Sam. But older. The voice sounded so different. Due to it being so much louder and rougher. Past all that weird hair around his mouth, he could see how this man could be a human sized version of his sprite sized brother. His brother liked to keep a clean shaven face, and sprites generally can't grow beards. Bowman wondered if Sam did it just to fit in better.

Being so much larger then everyone else here, made Sam more then a touch self conscious about his relatively enormous size. Can't be helped. Best he can do is to move slowly around everyone and apologize to Bowman. He cleared his throat and addressed the flying sprite and the Knight down below, “I am truly sorry for our rash behavior, for catching you and keeping you, Mr. Bowman.”

Bowman had never been called 'Mr.' before and was trying to parse out if it was an insult or not. He kept his distance while hovering in the air, level with the human's face. If he's being honest, these two didn't do anything worse then what Jacob had done, what his brother warned him that humans are likely to do the whole time growing up. At least these men let them go a lot faster then expected or hoped, and understood their desire for space. After letting them go, they kept those hands to themselves or on the creature in the long tan coated one's lap. Cas was it? Short name for such a big person.

The human Sam continued, “I don't know how you came to live in the woods, or if your Dean is back where you came from.” His eyes trailed up and past the group, looking into the forest for any sign of their civilization. Noticing the winged man start to scowl at his inquisitive gaze. Bristling with concern before he was interrupted by the brother down below.

“I haven't seen Dean since I was shrunk down and transported to these woods.” The Knight Sam spoke up, “We were kids, I don't have any idea what he would look like now beyond green eyes and blond hair. What he'll think of me if he sees me again, if he even thinks I'm still alive. I know that a lot has changed since then, back in the world. Jacob showed us some of the technology he had, music that's held on a device he said was like an ipod. No cassettes at all!”

Sam squinted at him. Right, another 2006 Sam. Seems like this curse thing happened across nearly all of the current universes in 2005, 'cept for the giant Jacob universe. Unless the giant was a botched reversal attempt for the shrinking curse? Who knows. They didn't bother sticking around to find out. It appears as though the same people will continue to run into each other, again and again but in different contexts and situations. He doesn't remember meeting a Jacob from his normal time, but that doesn't mean he doesn't exist. Just that they hadn't met yet. Maybe he'll search him out when this is all over. The universes literally telling them all that its fate that they meet. Who knows. Recurring themes. One of which, is that the Winchesters have tough lives. This little woodland Sam had it rougher then most. Growing up not only small and without Dean, but in a whole new environment. Cut off from everything he knows. He was glad Bowman's family took him in. The winged kid couldn't be more then 19 or 20. Sam looks like he's around 24. So Bowman basically grew up with Sam being his big brother. But, it still doesn't replace the loss of his Dean. The chance to find out what happened since that day. And being stuck at 4 inches tall in the woods with no real contact with human society means his odds of finding his brother are slim to none. This may be his only chance to see Dean, even if it's not his own. No wonder the kid is having a hard time with all this.

The Knight Sam had his sword in hand, but it was lowered to his side. It felt wrong to put it away just yet. He saw the large brown wing stretch out and down, the horned head ceased it's soft chirps to the one called Cas, to look right at him. Even from this short distance, he could hear the wheeze in the creatures breaths. “That can't be him. Can't possibly be Dean... Can it?”

“It is, just... not from your world. I would be eternally grateful if what I heard was true, that you can help him? I know he doesn't look it, but this _really is Dean_. You see, we are all from alternate universes. I'm not sure if you've heard of the theory when you went to school? Well we basically proven it as fact over and over again.” He chuckled and watched three of the small people stiffen from the news, while the Sam he's been traveling with laughed knowingly. “This is my brother. He was transformed into a Drauglin from a hunt turned sideways, and had been injured while we were uh, on the run from bad guys.” Cas bit his lip and cast his eyes down to Dean, fingers stroking the bandages quietly. Sam knew why, and did not want to over complicate the story. Getting tired of repeating their story, but he'd do it a hundred times more if it meant Dean would get the help he needed. Thankfully, his small companion Sam helped him out, and they summed up their situation and adventures so far that day. It took a few minutes, but they might have a couple more allies here, so they'd answer any questions and jump through any hoops.

Bowman had landed next to his brother and watched Cas crouch down, half holding out Dean towards them to see better. Sam followed suit, and both humans awkwardly sat down without jostling any of their passengers more then necessary. Wanting to be more at Wellwood's protectors level, to seem less imposing or threatening. They did kind of gatecrash into their home and hold them captive for a hot minute. They both wanted to do more to show how sorry they were for the knee jerk reactions.

Cas let down Oscar next, now that he was closer to the ground and had made no move to go after Dean in his other arm at all in that time. The silver Knight stumbled a bit. Unsure where to go when the taller human also lowered down his arm to let Sam hop off easier. Sam strode right up to his friend and hugged him tight. Relief on both sides that neither one was hurt or traumatized after all they'd gone through. Sam knew how his friend Oscar would be feeling after all this excitement, and even after the hug, left his arm draped over Oscar's shoulders. He leaned in causally and whispered, “It's alright, Oscar. No one's a threat here.”

Oscar was shaken up and clung to Sam's hand that was around his thin shoulders. As the smallest one there, he couldn't help but feel weak in the knees. He'd never seen so many people at once, and all of them were looking at him. Or rather, at his armor glinting in the light.

Bowman found himself gravitating closer. “I've never seen so much metal.”

Oscar's eyes went wide at the green winged man brazenly approached them. The wings practically vibrating at his back had Oscar shivering from nerves. The sprite had wings strong enough to take him away if he wanted to. His hand gripped onto Sam's a bit tighter, sides bumping. “I-i-it's silver.” Oscar stammered out, looking up at the taller man. Even with the wings folded, they still arched even higher.

Bowman's curiosity overrode his self preservation and in just a few steps, he got right up next to the small man leaning forward to see his reflection in the bent metal across Oscar's chest. Touching the metal here and there. Feeling how smooth its surface was. All of their own metals were reserved for the Knights swords and they were thin and sharp to conserve the rare material. “It's so big and shiny.”

Bowman's brother was suddenly right behind the sprite, blushing furiously at his younger brother. “Bowmannnn.” Sam hissed. “Invading enemy?” His hand waving about with a pointed glare.

Bowman straitened up again and stepped back. Appraising Oscar head to toe. Whispering back, “He's not very _big_.” Implying that they could take him out. The implication was not lost on Oscar who shrank behind his metal chest plate, hiding as much of himself from view as possible without actually turning into a turtle.

Sam sighed at his winged brother and looked Oscar over, never taking his eyes off of the giants for too long.

Sam didn't like where these two were going with their talk and stepped in front of Oscar more fully. Dropping his voice into something more imposing. A warning and daring glint in his eye to just try it. “Hey.”

Knight Sam frowned deeply at him. Holding out his sword once again and Sam in turn held out his silver knife, Oscar following suit with the sharp silver shard from his boot, since Cas had taken away his sword and his knife.

A standoff.

The mature adult Sam sighed overhead. “This is getting nowhere.” raising an eyebrow at his tiny Sam. “You really think they're gonna help us out?”

“I was hoping.” The knife in his hand that Dean made for him was being stared at by the Knight who had one hand on his sword, and the other going for the back of his pants. A second weapon. He had no way of knowing that the other Sam was only looking at it because it was an exact replica of his own. Sam pulled his friend Oscar behind him all the way and lifted up his blade again, ready for a two against one fight despite having two humans right behind as backup. “Probably not going to help.” Sam grit out. Disappointed but not surprised. It was a long shot to begin with.

Dean's pained breaths wheezed unexpectedly as he gathered up enough strength to flop his head around to look at the mumbling blurs. 'Someone stop the world. I wanna get off.' Shifting in the t-shirt and whining when his injuries were pinched by his moving around. 'Sammy? _Hurts_.'

All eyes went on him as Cas hushed him soothingly, stroking a finger down Dean's neck. His eyes were shining with some unshed tears. “It's Ok, Dean. We're trying to get you some help.” Then gazed down at the group of little people. “Please, if you can, _please_ , help him. I know what he looks like, but Dean is a _good man_. He's been through so much, and didn't deserve the hardships that nearly killed him time and time again. I understand you only see what you see, but I wish you could take a minute to see what I do when I look at him.” He held Dean lower now. Hesitating before putting him on the ground fully, hands hovering low nearby.

Dean gasped at the sudden stop, angling his bound hand and leg out from under his body. Heaving breaths and struggling to stay focused and awake. Mouth hanging open and tongue starting to slip out from panting. He squinted at the blurred shapes standing nearby. Closing his mouth to sniff the air. The anger was dissipating.

Knowing Oscar wouldn't want to be left alone, Sam calmly pulled him along when he came closer to Dean, running a hand down the Drauglin's long neck. Oscar stayed out of reach of the Drauglin because he was still wearing the silver plating. Oscar nodded along as his friend said, “He really is Dean. And he really does need your help. If you can.”

Knight Sam's sword wavered as he considered them all. The first two humans he's seen since Jacob, an identical twin to himself petting a dragon and calling it by his brother's name, another shorter man holding onto him, looking like he's ten seconds from either fighting or running. And finally the dragon itself. Breathing laboriously and green eyes swimming around at all of them. Rumbling low in his chest. It was the freckles that dotted the dragon's nose and down his weak body that put a chink in his armor.

Sam's anger at holding his brother captive waned the longer the humans sat there peacefully. Full attention on the dragon with honest concern in their faces. Turning to Bowman. “What do you think?”

Bowman's wings fluttered behind him in irritation. It was a lot to ask. Rischa and Cerul were the healers of the Wellwood, Bowman couldn't manage more then healing a leaf cut. What if they declined? What then? He knew that his brother would need his glider to get back home since they were miles away from the home tree. He wished to the great Spirit above that he could just fly Sam out himself. For now, they were basically trapped without the Wellwood Knights or even patrol sprites here. He whispered to his Sam, “I think we wont last five minutes if we anger the giants.”

Human Sam sighed again. “We can still hear you.” Turning to Cas. “It's like they think we went deaf just because we're big.”

Cas tilted his head at that. “I was trying to be polite and pretend I can't hear them. I attempted to not listen in.”

Sam rubbed at his neck sheepishly, addressing the small crowd standing on the ground. “Sorry.”

Sam took that opportunity to drop his knife back down. With his other hand, he pointed up at his big buddy Sam, “He's fine. They're all safe, just a bit uh, overwhelming until you get to know them.” He shrugged and faced the green guys again, keeping Oscar behind him the whole time, trying to be informal about it. “And yeah, you can decide not to help us out, it's fully your decision. We will leave. All of us. Peacefully. You wont see us again, we promise. Right guys?”

Human Sam and Castiel nodded once, Bowman wouldn't stop nodding, and Dean lolled his head around, 'Wha?'

Sam put his knife away in his bag and then held up both empty hands, “We understand this is all scary and don't want to frighten you guys.”

Bowman bristled at that. “I am not scared!”

Knight Sam nodded along. Jutting out his chin in defiance of such an asinine statement, “Neither am I. I swore to protect Wellwood and all her inhabitants.” He announced, going into the Knight's stance. Considering the possibilities. If what everyone was saying was true, then his brother somehow turned into a dragon, and he needed help. Sam had no idea what the details were, but at the moment it didn't matter. After seeing Jacob and how whole event passed, he knew that humans would have a knee jerk reaction to catch smaller people. These two humans released them far faster then even Jacob did. He didn't blame Jacob too harshly, knowing his character and point of view on it now, and that the teenage giant didn't mean any harm, it was just his curiosity overruling his common sense. He also knew that if these humans wanted to, they could have kept the two of them hostage and forced them to heal the dragon. But, they were let go and that made him even more curious. Leaning more towards helping then fleeing.

Knight Sam approached the other sprite sized Sam, and looked him dead in the eyes. Marveling internally for a moment at how this is what he looks like in real life. Not a reflection in water, or the sliver of reflection seen in his knife or sword. Bowman's constant stares at the twin also confirmed that this was basically Sam if he'd stayed in human society, going by his fish hook and bag, the modern styled clothes, and the way that he's totally relaxed and comfortable around _giants._

The Knight held his sword downwards in truce, asking candidly, “You trust them?”

Sam grinned. “Yeah. I've gotten to know our giant counterpart pretty well this morning err, afternoon here, I guess. And that Cas guy seems alright. That's Sam from 2017. Different universe from Oz and I.” He said. The green winged dude was still lingering close so he pat Bowman's back for attention and formal greeting. “This is Oscar, he's a civvie from my world. Who originally came to slay the dragon I see.” He looked down at Oscar who was blushing again. “But yeah. Any help would be great.”

Knight Sam took one last long look at everyone there, then landed on Bowman who shrugged. “Scar and Cerul would want to see them first.”

Sam nodded and thumbed over his shoulder. “I can guide you closer, but you're _not allowed_ into the village.”

“You'll help?” Castiel asked, hope in his voice.

“I can try. But after he's healed, you will leave our woods right away, and _never_ talk about it. Those are the conditions.” Raising his sword again for emphasis, even if he knew it wouldn't do much good against the humans that were fixated on him. The tingle in his neck going away, proving to himself that they aren't really a threat. He looked at the dragon who's breathing was still sounding labored. Stepping closer but found Bowman's hand stilling him.

“It's _Dean_.” he whispered, the feelings coming back to him again and his brother relented, patting his back.

“A Knight with a dragon brother.” Bowman snarked but there was no anger or denial there. “Can't _wait_ to see Scar's face for this discovery. Remember when they refused to let you keep that squirrel pup?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to race through and finish the stories in time! I discovered that each of my chapters are longer then most fics out there! holy smokes! Do you think they are too long?  
> The line Bowman says, 'fly into a thorn bush and flail!' is from chewbaccaaah on Tumblr. The official Brothers Apart Tumblr page :)


	9. Well I'm Takin' My Time, I'm Just Movin' On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter for the extra long wait! Sorry bout that, I wanted to finish up the other fanfic,  
> Brothers Transposed. Go check it out! 
> 
> An alliance is formed, help is on the way!

Chapter Nine:

Well I'm Takin' My Time, I'm Just Movin' On

 

 

 

“ _Dude_!” the Knight whispered, blushing slightly at the reminder. “ _So not like that_.” Straightening out his green coat to regain some dignity. “I don't mind having a dragon brother, and _he_ obviously doesn't.” The Knight from Wellwood chuckled pointing his sword up at the human sitting there. Amused to see the human in question smirk back down in agreement. Sam sheathed his sword at last to show the immense trust he's putting in them. He got up enough courage to get closer to the dragon. The human named Cas leaning back to give him room, but left a hand nearby as precaution. He could understand the desire, and didn't bother commenting on it.

'Sammy?' Dean sniffed out and whined.

Cas said overhead, “That's not your Sam, Dean. That's another one.”

'Nother one?' Dean lifted up his eyelids again, inhaling deeper. 'Smells like a salad.'

Sam and Cas chuckled, and Sam translated for his brother, “He says you smell like a salad.”

The dragon then added, and Sam helped translate, 'Donworry Sammy. I don't eat saladsss, jusss meat.' Winking lazily. The long snout bobbing once before his narrow tongue darted out to lick his dry lips.

The jokes went right over the Knight head, since the last time he'd seen Dean, he hadn't had the desire to have healthy salads over mac and cheese with marshmallows. And, living with sprites who were all vegetarian, meant that he was one too. Killing some animal to eat it by himself didn't hold it's appeal to Sam. It was an awkward conversation to be sure, when that particular topic came up. Several sprites wondered if humans would want to eat _them_ since they were certainly large enough to. Sam had to set the record straight and to avoid getting any possible glances, he just stuck with fruits, vegetables and whatever else the sprites were dining on. He longed for a nice slice of pizza, a hot dog at Bobby's... but those days were long gone. It wasn't worth worrying about. Dean though, they confirmed that he can _only_ eat meat and that would not be an easy topic for the sprites back home.

“I still can't believe you understand him. I just heard growls.” Bowman folded his arms, side eyeing them. It would be very easy to make up words to go along with the growls, whines, and chirps. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched his brother get within touching distance. He huffed and approaching as well since he wasn't about to let his brother have _all_ the dangerous fun. His leafy green wings opening and closing in deep thought. “His brown wings... do they absorb much sunlight? They're pretty cool for camouflage.” Bowman remarked, about to pet one but saw his brother hold back for a second. Hesitating. So he took his cue and waited to make contact as well.

Sam whispered, “His eyes are green. And he's got Dean's freckles.”

“It _is_ Dean.” The giant Sam said, startling the Knight into remembering that the giants have excellent hearing. “And we are very grateful for your help. Is there anything we can do in return?”

Bowman's eyes lit up. Having _giants_ owe them something was an interesting concept. His gaze dancing around all of them. Mind racing. Humans could lift up entire logs and form massive walls or structures with them. In _minutes!_ Sprites could pray living things into growing into usable shapes, but dead logs and trees were just that, dead. Moving rocks larger then a sprite meant a lot of work and ingenuity and it usually was utterly _pointless_ since nearly all sprites alive could just fly over them. There was no point trying to move large rocks or boulders, they simply learned to work around them. But humans could move just about anything! Bend their environments to their own will! Jacob and Sam described how they used trees and bricks to build houses instead of growing them. Massive structures that were unbelievably complicated. Bringing hot or cold air, light and water right to their _fingertips_ with a turning of a lever or push of a button. He had his doubts before when listening to Sam growing up, but seeing how big humans actually are, and what inventions they produce, he knew anything was possible. Humans can do that.

Bowman wondered if the sprites back home would appreciate a structure built out of logs and huge rocks around the village. Protecting them from some predators. Mind racing at the possibilities. He took a minute to think it though and decided that Wellwood was just fine the way it is set up. Or, at least, he'll wait to discuss it with the leaders before deciding on his own to reshape the outskirts of Wellwood. When they were kids playing next to the stream, Sam showed him how to build sand castles and moats and bridges out of twigs and small rocks. Letting the water encircle the lopsided castle to protect it from 'invaders'. Sticks with torn leaves shoved through for heads and feet. Bowman couldn't help but think how easy it would be for these two humans to do just that... build a giant moat around Wellwood. But, then again. Getting ahead of himself. For now, though, he could ask for something that is readily available without having the humans travel to the village.

Bowman's gaze landing on Oscar because of the glinting metal. So _much_ of it. Already formed without impurities to weaken the metal. It took the crafters many months to get that much from special ore rich rocks. So much work and knowledge needed to drawing the treasured material out. Smelting is never easy due to the high demand of extreme heat and specific chemicals. Bowman never paid too much attention to the process, but knew that it was very _very_ difficult.

Bowman decided that this would be a good start at trade for healing the dragon. “I want his clothes.” Pointing at Oscar who blushed furiously.

“What?!”

“What _what_? You don't need them. That giant even said it hurts the dragon. So really, I'd be doing you a favor by getting rid of them for you.” Bowman grinned at the logical reasoning, but it turned to a puzzled frown at the continued uncomfortable shifting the little guy was doing. It dawned on him and he chuckled, clarifying, “The _metal_ clothes.”

“Oh.” Oscar's blush didn't go away and he looked to his friend for guidance.

He saw the other sprite sized Sam shrug and say, “My Dean would understand. We can get more silver later. Easily. Thrift stores have more silver kitchen ware then people realize. Just gotta look at the bottom for 925.”

Bowman had no idea what a 'thrift store' was but apparently metal really was easy to come by from where they came from. Any doubt that they'd be upset at being relieved of their precious metal 'flew out the window', as Sam would say. An expression that made him laugh because it was humans that couldn't simply fly out windows. Flying out the window is his favorite past time. All these contradictory phrases, adding to the absurdity surrounding humans. Still, he had to admit he was amazed at how easy things are for humans. Need metal? Go get some at the 'thrift store'. Perhaps thrift was a word meaning swift? For how fast it was to acquire? Bowman snapped back to the present at the silver glinting in the light again when the short man fumbled with the thick rope to untie it. He supposed, to humans, the rope would look like thread so it made sense that is what the small people would use instead of making their own out of plant fibers. A long time consuming process. Bowman wondered what it was like in the humans world, but at the same time, was glad to be far from it. Too many unnatural angles. Everything was box shaped and Sam said that's _normal_.

Oscar trusted his friend when he said they could get more silver, and slowly lifted up his armor over his head, darting his gaze over to the dragon more then once. “If you say so.” his small voice trembled.

Bowman picked up on the hesitation. “Why is he scared of the dragon?”

Knight Sam stood up straighter from where he'd been apparently having a one sided staring contest with Dean who was barely awake. The knight asked, “Were you wearing silver because it burns him? Were you going to fight him?” His hand went to his sword again. Not lifting it just yet. But ready.

“Uh, yeah? But!” Oscar rushed to explain. “I thought they kidnapped Sam, but he didn't! Well, he _did_ , but did it for a _reason_. My friend Dean thought that that Dean was a bad guy but he's really a good guy that thought my Dean was a bad guy.”

“Well that cleared everything right up.” Bowman snarked but got the gist of it.

Sam pat Oscar's shoulder. “We can discuss it on the way.” Addressing Bowman and the Knight again, “We should get going. Dean doesn't look so hot.”

That got everyone's attention, and Cas brought his hands back down to Dean, stroking his back and wings with light fingers. “Yes. If we're going, we should go now.”

The Knight nodded. He still hadn't worked up the courage to actually touch the dragon yet. The time spent traveling should help him come to terms with the very idea that that's Dean and he's safe to be around. Remembering the time when he was a young kid, seeing his first sprite. Scar made quite an impression on him. Fighting off a squirrel that could have hurt or even killed him. So different in appearance to everyone he'd ever known up to that point. Anything other then human or animal was a monster and to be feared. He was trying to see the human inside this winged creature. Dean barely resembled himself. Just his freckles and the green eyes. If the translations were correct, he also had his old brothers sense of humor. If they didn't help him now, Dean will be lost. “Bowman, can you help me get my glider up and going again?”

“I could just carry you.” The giant Sam said and the Knight shivered at the attention. Sam knew that it might take too long to wait up on all of the small people. Assuring them, “It's not a problem.” A hand came down and Sam and Oscar climbed on. Oscar needed some minor encouragement, but only because he was still new to the 'riding on humans' idea. He'd only experienced sporadic contact with the one human, and this even _taller_ one ain't him. The silver clothes were set inside the jacket pocket, “I'll carry it for you so you don't have to, I'm not keeping it.” Sam assured and saw Bowman give an awkward thumbs up as if he didn't know if he was doing it right. Sam gave a grin and winked. “Yeah. That's right.”

Cas gathered up Dean in his arms, holding him carefully close to his stomach, as he steadily got to his feet.

Bowman quietly asked his brother, “It's up to you if you want the ride. Pretty sure that just that one human could carry everyone here, the other one included. The guy is _huge_!” He added extra quiet and was glad that for once, the human didn't hear him.

Sam whispered back, “I feel better in the air, in case they try anything on the way. My glider is over there.” He said and started marching. Bowman flying into the air and landing near the glider, stomping down and bending the grasses out of the way. The landing could have been better. They were right in the middle of a patch of tall grass.

Human Sam stood with Sam and Oscar in one hand, addressing them while the two on the ground got the flying thing freed from the grasses. “Did you guys want to travel in my pocket or shoulder?”

“P-pocket.” Oscar said after some slight hesitation and his friend agreed to his great relief. Being together would really help his nerves out right about now. So both got in and situated, as Sam stepped closer to the two green clad members of their party.

“Need some help?” He asked after a few minutes of watching and hearing Bowman gripe about Sam's utter lack of landing skills.

The Knight rubbed the back of his neck for the human's watching them from above. The ground shaking with those powerful steps didn't help his ego either. He felt no ill will coming from the giant, only the earnest expression of someone that is able and willing to help. He conceded defeat. “I just need a strip of clear ground.” It wasn't ideal, but there were no cliffs around to get a falling start. Unless...

Bowman saw his brother thinking and folded his arms. “No.”

“It'll be fun.”

“NO.” Bowman said again, firmly.

“Hey Sam!” The Knight shouted up and got punched by Bowman. “Can you hold it up with both hands, flat out like this.” And held his hands together at face height. It would be scary as hell, but so worth it. How many chances could he get to try _this_? The human nodded and reached for the glider. “Careful!” Sam shouted and the hand slowed down. Huge fingers lifting up one end of it gently and the other hand snaked underneath it more. Sam ran forward and helped get it onto the hand that was flattened out. He then got up onto the hand next to his glider and Bowman flew circles around the human. Hovering close once Sam and the glider were off the ground. Anxious for any mistake. Ready to catch Sam's hands if he fell off the side, to slow down the fall to the ground, but this giant was moving slow and careful. Listening to every instruction and order. Better then even Jacob had, so he had to give the guy a break. _A small one_. The giant _did_ catch and hold him in a fist after all. Ignoring the fact that he flew into the human first...

Sam lifted up the small green guy higher and could see more details in the flying thing. “This is impressive. You build this yourself?”

The Knight was watching Sam, but then turned his eyes to his handiwork and puffed up with pride. “Yeah, I have to wax the leaves and replace them fairly often, but it's taken me all over these woods.”

In the pocket, Sam and Oscar watched the glider move past, also impressed by the sight of it.

“Y-you really use this to fly?” Oscar asked and the amazement was evident that even if he was impressed, he was too scared to do it himself.

“Yup. Been flying for years. Bowman helps. He can find out the best path to take in the air, where the updrafts are and air flow is going. I can go for miles and miles.” Sam showed off the ballasts, the supports, and details he put in. Pointing out the bags of food and water that the other sprites insists he carries with him at all times. Laughing as he explains that they think he'll starve to death in minutes if he ever stops eating.

Bowman folds his arms as he hovered nearby. “You can't absorb sunlight! How else are you going to keep up your strength?”

Castiel stared at the flying man. Did he hear that right? He can photosynthesize? So many more questions bubbling up but he pushed it aside for now. Perhaps once they get a good rapport going, they can exchange stories and information. It helped that the sprite Bowman was already curious. It could be easy to trade off questions and answers to sate both their curiosities.

The Knight showed off his emergency features as he straps himself in using the quick release buckles. “And my clothes have flaps sewn in them so if I fall, I can stretch out my arms and legs to glide down by myself. It's not ideal, but it saved my life more then once.” He said and jolted back to the fact that he was telling so many secrets to these only recently former enemies. Scar is gonna have his head if this turns south. He clammed up and angled the glider around to face outwards. A thumbs up indicated to the giant to lift him up. “High as you can, would be best.”

Sam lifted him and the green leaf and twig glider up over his head. Fearful for his fragile yet fearless tiny counterpart. The fingers and hands shifting position slightly made the Knight stumble for a second. Hearing the creaking structure of the glider before he fixed it's position on the hands that cupped slightly before flattening out again into a steady- _ish_ platform. This has got to be skyscraper height to him. Fingers twitching, itching to grab onto the thin frame and keep the little man safely tethered to the ground. He meant it when he said he could carry them there, but also understood how that would be taken. Like they were incapable of handling it themselves. Obviously they flew getting here, they could fly getting back. Bowman's constant fluttering around his head wasn't helping though, he kept having the urge to swat at him.

Sam gripped the bar in front of him with both hands, feet planting in front of a gigantic wrinkle in the palm below to give him an added boost to his kick off. He shouted up to Bowman, “Go!” His brother swooped forward with considerable swiftness and agility, grabbing a hold of the pole overhead and at the same moment, Sam launched forward. The glider took to the air with practiced precision and grace, even from the unconventional launching pad, and it only lost two feet of height before Bowman flew ahead and course corrected Sam's aim. Sam and Cas were standing there in awe of the whole event and remembered to get their asses going or else loose the two green guys in the lush woods. The glider made them to go into a slight jog, just to keep up.

Sam thought, ok, so, they didn't have to worry about the little guys keeping up with the humans, it was actually the other way around.

Thankfully, the speedy jog wasn't harsh enough to jostle the Sam and Oscar right out of his pockets, but Sam lifted up a hand to steady them from the swaying lop. Dean was cradled close to Cas and they both headed deep into the woods. Cas wished he'd eaten breakfast before this lengthy exercise. His friend seemed to be used to pushing his body to the limits, because he didn't complain at all, focusing on tracking the green wings ahead as they swooped and swayed past huge trees. Birds startled from their nests at the speedy fly-by's.

Sam held back a chuckle from inside the pocket when Bowman darted too close to a bird who decided to give chase. Bowman did a few impressive flips to avoid it but that just stirred up other birds into the fray. The Knight turned into a very wide circle when he realized Bowman was having difficulties and wasn't keeping up. He couldn't really go help so he did the most useful thing an older brother could do.

“Bowman! Quit bothering those chicks! No means no!” Sam laughed and angled his glider around as Bowman darted underneath him.

“Pray to a rock, Sam!” Bowman cartwheeled sideways over the glider and aimed for the humans next when that didn't work. He had no other option because the birds were gaining on him. Red wings were such jerks! He circled around the one called Cas then landed on the tall Sam's shoulder, ducking behind the long curtain of hair and feeling the human tense up immediately. “Sorry!” He hush whispered to the human who now had numerous pissed off birds flapping all around him. Sam covered up his pocket to protect the two inside, and scrunched up his shoulders on instinct to protect his neck from the screaming birds. Bowman was partially shoved into his collar but held his tongue.

The birds squawked and fluttered in surprise when they _finally_ noticed the humans and flew off in a hurry. Unfamiliar with such tall bipeds in the woods.

Bowman peeked out of the hair, fluttering his wings to dislodge some of the long strands and looked down when he heard loud cackling laughter from the human's pocket. The city Sam was halfway draped out of the pocket, laughing his head off while the little Oscar was peeking up with a mix of curiosity and fear. No doubt from the bird's close call. Bowman walked over to a clear spot on the shoulder and watched as his brother made another wide loop around. Unsure if he should land yet. “Sorry human Sam.” Bowman looked over at the stunned face next to him, turning slightly to look at the sprite on his shoulder.

“Not a problem.” Sam said quietly to spare small ears. Considering correcting the winged dude, 'It's just Sam, not _human_ Sam.' But let it be. Glad that the little winged dude was ok enough with him to use as a hiding place at least. Building trust. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bowman nod respectfully for the save, and take to the air again. Angling in the direction that his brother was going to end up in with the wide loops and helped him course correct back on the straight path. Sam and Cas resumed their jog, while Oscar was wondering if his friend had lost his mind since he was still wracked with giggles.

“Did you see his _face_?!” Sam snickered and wiped off his eyes. “Oh God. Wait till Dean hears about this.”

Sam and Bowman couldn't hear them from so far ahead as they continued to fly for awhile longer. At least, until Bowman started to get tired. They circled around a clearing that was previously dubbed, 'Jacob's clearing'. And finally landed. Sam and Cas entered soon after and sat down heavily. Legs like jelly. The jog was longer then expected, and they could all use a rest. Sam let the two from inside his pocket down to give them some space. Once they were a decent distance away, Sam fell onto his back, panting in the cool air. Oscar and Sam started walking to a circle of rocks that Jacob had made for a fire pit to check it out. Castiel too, set Dean down and fixed up the t-shirt nest for him. Then shucked his trench coat and sighed at the breeze. He laid the coat out on the ground in case the small people wanted to sit or stand on it instead of the dirty ground where there was no shortage of bugs. He re-positioned Dean's nest on top of the coat for an added padded layer for comfort. Cas laid back as well. Looking up at the canopy overhead while the humans tried to catch their breaths. Dean was in a light doze and sniffed out his surroundings because he was too tired yet to open up his eyes all the way.

Bowman's curiosity couldn't be contained anymore, even if he was exhausted from flying for most of that day. He just had to inspect everything on the humans and the other small wingless people. Wondering how they got along without wings. Sam climbed up onto the coat, feeling better on something more familiar then the dirt rock ground with grass, weeds and old spider webs towering over them. Oscar lingered nearby, fearfully looking up and around whenever there was a bird calling.

Bowman saw the timid looks and said, “It's alright. This is Jacob's clearing. Animals usually don't come here because it smells like humans.” He saw the giant Sam turn his head to the side and said, “Not that that's a bad thing!” Because he didn't want to offend anyone unjustly. They were starting to make friends here, and if he made them mad, they might not let him explore their things. The human shrugged and closed his eyes to the sky again. Even laying down, both of the humans were far taller then everyone down here. He was sure that nothing would come close with these two gargantuans here.

Bowman ambled closer to the city Sam and Oscar and sat down nearby facing them. Looking at them now, he could tell that the pocket ride was rough for them too. Oscar looked more green then Bowman's hair. “How do you survive in human lands?”

Sam chuckled and brought over his bag, showing the hook and line and describing how he gets around with it. How people his size live and hide from humans most of the time. The dangers that come with the life. There were small people that live in the wilderness, but they had a different set of problems to deal with. Sam knew of one colony at Bobby's back lot, and talked about how they survive. Bowman was duly impressed. Hearing that they don't need wings to survive out in the woods or fields. The sprites always looked after Sam, even after he's proven able to protect himself time and time again. Even beating several other knights in competitions dealing solely with strength. His brother heard the praise and blushed, turning away from them to deal with checking over his glider.

Oscar pipped up soon after and described the frightening things that he's seen and of his first encounter with the supernatural. Witches that were at his hotel that were actually trying to kill people! It was his first meeting with Sam and Dean.

Once the glider was parked safely away from anything that might fall on it, Sam pulled off the bags of pastries that Candara packed for him and brought them over. Eager to hear all about it. He offered up the pastries and the other small Sam handed over the half of the pretzel M&M that Oscar had stolen from the human's room.

Castiel shrugged internally as he listened in, they forgot to bring their own pack lunch when they invaded Wellwood. From the yummy sounds he just barely heard, those pastries sounded delicious and he would love to get the recipe for it. Wondering if they'd have any such ingredients in grocery stores. Probably not. He heard Bowman go on an on about the mint leaves and what they use for flour. Apparently acorn flour is a main ingredient in their breads. Castiel doubted he could find that in the local stores... berries, sure, pine sap for sweetness in some treats? The Knight gave a pinched expression, ok, that's probably only tasty to sprites. Then Bowman described fresh honey still in the comb and that got a lot of longing sighs.

The food sharing boosted the energy and friendliness around the non-campfire, as they ate the new foreign sweets. Swapping stories back and forth. Bowman enjoyed the choc-o-late and practically shoved the pastries at the other two in exchange for more. Sam couldn't even protest Bowman handing over his rations. He was the only one in Wellwood to have a huge fully stocked pantry. Because, of course, he will starve to death without them! Sam looked forward to trying out the M&M's again. They don't grow on trees out here. The Knight considered forming a trading agreement just for the candies in exchange for pastries but knew that wouldn't really be fair to the sprites that make them. Candara said she likes making them for Sam, but, making them for a different Sam, this skinny guy named Oscar, and two huge _humans_ as well?? It would take twenty times the amount of ingredients and even more time to make up enough for just one human to even have a small taste. Jacob ate an entire bag in one small bite! Posing the idea to the bakers, might be asking a bit much.

Unless... the humans hand over already processed flour for cooking? Or other base ingredients to save them the time and energy? Sam shook his head. No sense making plans for any kind of trade agreements before they even talk to the Lords and Ladies of Wellwood. Lord Scar and Lord Cerul would be his best bet at peaceful treaties. If those two don't like what they see and hear, all these people might not be welcomed anymore. Forced to leave immediately or pain of death. The Knights could do it too. Since Sam had become a Knight, they'd had to fight off not just stray cats and hawks, but huge _wolves_ before. Scar took on one _by himself_. There was no doubt that if the Lords saw these people as a deadly threat, they'd be met with deadly force. Usually, animals can be dissuaded from returning to their area with a few well placed cuts, but humans... humans were tenacious and stubborn, and they wouldn't risk the lives of everyone in Wellwood if they saw these guys as a threat.

Sam'd be the one having to break the news, because he was the one that decided to bring them closer, instead of reporting back right away. Getting all their hopes up after making them travel all this way. His shoulders slumped. Hopefully they were making the right decision here. Who could he trust if not himself? Or a much larger version of himself? He though wryly. Sam came back to the conversation when his brother told them excitedly about his first experience with human food. Pushing aside the doom and gloom that had started to creep up on him. Think positively.

“I had some choc-o-late before with Jacob, but it will never get old, city Sam.” Bowman's wings fluttered behind him as he rocked side to side, enjoying the snack. A ring of melted chocolate around his mouth as he dove into the next bite. He was puzzled why this one had a very hard bread inside of it. Large granules of salt on top made it salty and sweet. Weirdest thing. It actually tasted good together.

Oscar wished he'd had more to give, but, he had to leave his bag behind because carrying all that silver was already too heavy. At the moment, the human Sam was holding onto it just because it was easier for him then to make the others carry it on over since they had to fly by themselves.

Sam raised a brow at the odd moniker that Bowman gave him. City Sam. He supposed it was easier for him to address the three different Sam's here. At least he didn't get stuck with something humiliating. He could hear his brother's off key singing if word got out, 'Just a City boy! Born and raised in south Detroit!'

City Sam saw that even though Bowman and the other Sam were working on their food, they were still staring at his bag and the resting humans. No doubt wondering at all of the differences in clothing and things they carried around. Sam pulled out other things from his borrowing bag, showing them how he uses everything in daily life. Handing over the small paper salt packet that he has in case they have to deal with a ghost or demon and need to make a circle around himself. He gave the excuse that there's likely no ghosts here in the woods so they could have it for cooking or warding off slugs and snails. Pure salt like this was in short supply so Bowman accepted it with more reverence then Sam expected.

He rummaged around the bag and pulled out the silverware set made out of matchsticks he'd carved and the Knight reached forward and held them up to Bowman in triumph. “See? This is what I was trying to describe. Forks have four pointy parts.”

Bowman folded his arms. “I still think it's dumb. Why not eat with your hands?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Keep it.” Sam grinned and handed over the spoon too. He could always make more up when he's bored in the hotel. The other side of the matches had the ignitable heads in case Sam needed to start a fire. A full match and stick is nearly the length of his leg and too cumbersome to carry or use. The matches got a lot of attention, and the Knight looked pretty smug when he pulled out his lighter. Showing it off to the others.

Now it was city Sam's turn to gawk. “Aw, man? Why didn't I get shrunk with a Zippo lighter?” He whined. Shoving the unlit match back into his pack after wrapping it up. He rummaged around some more and pulled out other stuff. Letting them look but not touch his journal, since it was private and precious to him. Humans might not be able to read it, but these guys can. He put it back in the bag again. They hadn't unlocked that level of trust yet. Setting his trusty silver knife down as well and the Knight Sam pulled his out next.

Knight Sam held out the single most prized possession he still had from his childhood. Something that saved his life more then once. The one thing that reminded him that he had an older brother that cared for, and loved him. One that he lost and longed to see again. Through this knife, he still felt connected with Dean, and wondered if his older brother kept his own homemade knife as well. “Earlier, I was trying to show you that I had one too.” He said and laid his own side by side with the other one. Each Sam gently picked up the other's and looked it over. The city Sam's knife was sharper because he had access to a whetstone, while the Knight only had regular stones found near the stream that had been smoothed out. Each knife had tiny marks all over, showing how tough their lives had been and how invaluable the handmade gifts were. They traded back and each looked at their own knife fondly. Even if it was identical, they'd know their own anywhere.

Oscar got up enough courage to describe the few other hunts that he was involved in, and Bowman and his brother were wide eyed with rapt attention while Sam leaned back and listened to his friend tell it in his words. Everything was far more intense for the extra short guy, and he wasn't about to belittle his experiences. Besides, it really was more intense for Oscar. He'd never been trained to fight monsters, but still had the strength to face them. His speed and silence helped them out on those hunts, not just in daily life. Sam at least had his human brother by his side most of the time, and before that, he'd had his family to come home to at the hotel after a day of scavenging. Oscar was all alone and it made Sam's heart lurch. He'd never really thought of it from Oscar's point of view. He thought that his friend had closer neighbors then across the entire hotel. Sam would have to wait to talk to his brother about it, if they could do something to help their small friend.

After the food was eaten and everyone was nicely rested, Sam and Cas sat upright again and politely listened in as the stories kept on going between them down below. They were interrupted when they heard a rasping growl coming from the other end of the trench coat where Dean was set. The dragon snarled at a moth that would not leave him alone. Snapping his teeth at it and missing. Tail weakly flicking at the end in irritation. The growls turned petulant and a wing came up to bat it out of the air missing it by a mile. Dean gave up and coughed raggedly. It sounded so dry. He chirped/whined up at Cas in a sound that caught in his throat. Bringing them back to the reason behind this journey.

“I know, Dean. I wish I had some.” Cas said, scooting over to be closer and petting the Drauglin's spine.

“Some what?” Bowman asked, taking to the air just enough to land nearby, leaning over to look at Dean's half lidded eyes.

“Water. He's thirsty.” Cas frowned.

The Knight jumped to action and pointed Cas in the direction of the stream. “Jacob left a bucket behind on accident, well, it's actually the same one he caught us in. After we escaped, he threw it aside and forgot about it.”

Castiel had even more questions but held his tongue, more important matters at hand.

Bowman led the way for Cas to fetch some water. Letting Dean drink first. Dean perked up a little at getting something to drink, but was still very weak. Cas returned to the stream and drank after thoroughly wash out the bucket because of Dean's flame spray. _Any_ amount of flammable Drauglin saliva is certain to be harmful humans and borrowers alike if ingested.

Sam had to stay with the group in case any animals came by in the meantime. Only the ones that grew up here in the forest knew how to handle themselves up against the huge animals and insects. And they were just two out of five short guys here in the clearing. Dean could barely take out a damned _moth_. He'd have no chance against even a squirrel if it decided to start shit.

Cas offered some fresh water from the scrubbed clean bucket to the small people first, but the Knight was prepared and they all had some of his water from the glider's canteens. He said that with the food gone, he had to balance out the wings again anyway. After everyone had their thirst quenched, he filled up the bags with small rocks to level it out again. Sine the little guys were fine, Sam finished off the bucket in a few large gulps. Relieved at the fresh clean stream water. Chuckling to himself at the idea that some people would pay good money for fresh stream water like this. It seemed to even taste cleaner then that. He was expecting some kind of aftertaste, but it was totally pure.

Sam had not detected any of the spray left over, and besides that he wasn't concerned with Dean's saliva residue. After all, when his brother was huge and escaping from Michael's cage, he'd carried Sam in his mouth to safety out of the burning building. Sam was covered head to toe in the flammable substance, but it didn't do any harm to him at all. Dean was extremely careful in his handling, and they'd all made it out alive. That snippet of their current lives could wait till they meet up with the heads of the village, explaining where they'd been and why they're here, asking for help.

It was apparent that the residents of Wellwood were thinking the same thing when Knight Sam decided to let his winged brother go get the Lords. If both went, he'd have to explain why the Knight and sworn protector of Wellwood had let not one, but _two humans_ , two strange sprite sized people, and a dangerous looking 'monster' alone so near the village. In Jacob's clearing no less. This is where many young, reckless, sprites - like Bowman's friends - went now as a destination for a weekend spot to goof around and relax, tell scary stories around the stone fire ring that may ' _burst into flames at any second!_ ' and eat fermented berries till they pass out. Their own version of 'camping' that they'd learned from Jacob's example. Ok, so maybe not the _fermented berries_ part, that was picked up from elsewhere in Wellwood and there were no actual accounts of anyone getting drunk on them out here. However, it seemed as good a place as any to do it. Many were still wary of going anywhere near the place where Jacob the human claimed his spot.

Both Sam and Bowman knew that at any moment, there could be a few teenage sprites flying into the area without even thinking of anyone besides the harmless Jacob being here. The Knight and Patrol sprite would both get a chewing out and several punishments from not just the Lords, but from every parent in the village. Despite it not being their fault for the youths to be flying around there _anyway_. In any case, they had to get going.

Bowman was finally rested enough to go fetch the leaders. This flight was one of his fastest that day. Not wanting to leave his brother alone out there for too long. On arriving he found out the rest of the Patrol sprites and Knights had returned and were all worried about where the two had gone. Search parties were only just starting to form before they headed out to where Sam and Bowman were sent to make sure the fence was secure. Candara hugged her nephew tightly and Larxe was soon to follow. Everyone asking questions all at once that grew in volume and worry for Sam's continued absence.

“He's fine!” Bowman had to shout to be heard. Everyone quieted down and finally Lord Cerul and Lord Scar arrived to see why there was a large gathering at the home tree. “It's kind of a long story. Sam and I were at the fence. We were minding our own business! When a human appeared out of nowhere on our side of the fence.” That got gasps from around the room and he could see Knights start to arm themselves for a fight ahead. “Wait! It's fine! The humans are safe!”

“Humans? More then one?” A frightened voice called out and that got a louder murmur from the crowd. By then, everyone had been told or had seen Jacob for themselves to know just how big humans could get, as well as how powerful they could be.

Lord Scar held up a hand for silence and got it soon after.

“Yes, there is two humans. One of them is an older Sam from another world. The other is named Cas and he's weird, but cool. They had with them two people that appear to be humans, but they're sprite sized and wingless just like Sam. Well, one of them is 'just like Sam' because _it is Sam_.” Bowman said shrugging. “Oh and the reason I'm here is the same one why we haven't forced them to leave,” Bowman started and heard someone's snide comment, 'Like you could force them.' And glared at that general area before continuing with more force and authority in his voice that he earned with his position and rank. “The reason is, is that they have a person that needs our help. Now, he's not, uh, he's not exactly human or sprite shaped, but he is still a person. I've seen enough to believe them.” Bowman thought of how to best phrase it. Spotting Larxe in the group nod encouragingly at him. He'd been like a father to Sam and him growing up and having him on his son's side helped him spit it out. “It's Dean. Sam's brother.” Hearing more gasps in the crowd. “But, it's not the same Dean from our world. It's another. And he uh, he looks...” Bowman was coming up with a blank for trying to describe the body to someone else. No one had ever heard of a 'dragon' before so he couldn't very well use that name. “Dean has wings similar to ours, but looks like rocks along with his skin. Like a lizards. A long neck, long tail and horns on his long head. He uh, looks like nothing we've ever seen before. But I know, he's still human on the inside. Still a person.”

“A monster!” Another voice called out. “You led _a monster_ to our doorstep?”

“No! He's not a monster, he just... he looks different!” Bowman's hands went up, begging for them to understand. “Dean needs help and they will all leave right after! They swore it! I had gotten to know each of them in this short time that I literally ran into them. The two Sam's are just like _our_ Sam! They came from other worlds, but not of their own choosing. Something has tricked them here but they said they can go back the same way. I believe them. Sam believes them. He's with them right now. He sent me here to get help.”

More voices were clamoring for swift retribution for the invasion into their woods. Some of the Knights whispered among themselves but no matter what the people told them to do, they would only listen to Lord Scar, and Bowman was grateful for that. The loyalty and obedience. He knew if he could talk Cerul into it, he'd talk Scar into it and knew that Rischa would follow him anywhere if he asked. He would never put her in danger and her trust in him wasn't unfounded.

“Bowman.” Lord Scar called out and the entire crowd hushed at once. A baby crying in the back was the only voice heard. “Bowman, I wish to speak with you privately.” He said and flew up to the balcony where the Knights' hall was, where meetings were generally held. With the loud commanding tone, he addressed everyone. “All my Knights, report to Larxe until further notice. Everyone else, go home. We will figure out what the course of action will be regarding these,” He paused for the right word. “Guests. I'm sure they are as harmless as Jacob was. Simply lost and needing help. If they intended harm, our young brave Patrol sprite would not have been allowed to return here.” A murmur rose in the crowd. Doubt at the human's intentions. Worry that they were going to follow the sprite on back here, and that's why they let him go. Scar couldn't speak more on the matter without getting more facts and details so with a sharp wave of his hand, he motioned for Bowman to joint them. He hid a grin at how Bowman seemed to always assume he was in trouble when he's called up to the Knights' hall.

Bowman arrived soon after, straightening out his outfit and trying to tame his wild green hair. He bowed for extra points, and before he could ask for Cerul to join them, the very same sprite showed up behind him on the balcony. Startling the poor sprite. He bowed again, breathless from the flight here from Jacob's clearing, and also for being the center of the entire villages attention... _again_. Some children were peeking into the windows and waved off by Cerul with a grin. They fluttered away and it was just the three of them there.

“My Lords.” Bowman started. “What I said was true.”

“I know.” Cerul smiled. His being an Empath helped in finding out the truth of the matter. “So we have two more Sam's in the wood?”

“Yes. And one of them really is human. Older then my brother by about ten years or so, maybe more. I forgot to ask. He is so blasted tall!” He exclaimed. Remembering where he was and who he was talking to, he cleaned up his language. “His face has short hair round his mouth and the hair on top is so long it reaches his shoulders! But, I know my brother, and that, well, that's a Sam. The other sprite sized one is exactly like our Sam but, with clothes like a humans. He had a bag of strange things as well to help him survive in the human's cities and houses. His small friend had silver clothes and they said that the metal burns the thing that Dean is and everyone said it was all a misunderstanding. Dean thought that this Dean kidnapped his sprite sized Sam, and their friend Oscar was going to rescue him but found out that Dean was safe after all and human Sam was bringing sprite Sam to find a way to get back to the sprite Sam's world again but accidentally wound up here instead. Oscar ran into Cas and the Dean that's here and they came through the same uh, I don't know what to call it. Wavey sideways water thing? He walked right out of it with Dean in his hands.” Bowman breathed for a second. “I flew into human Sam who caught me and my brother came flying out and fought so bravely that the humans let everyone go and we talked and found out that Dean needed help because he's injured and hurt and probably dying right now.” Bowman continued, “Sam and I brought them to Jacob's spot to wait for me to come back with help. Can we help him? They swear to leave whenever we ask. Even if we decide not to help him. They'll leave us alone and go back to their home worlds.” Bowman felt the need to continue so he told them the details he witnessed himself.

Cerul and Scar stared at the young patrol sprite as he fumbled his words up here and there. Too imaginative to make up, even for the young troublemaker. Getting the main gist of the story, their curiosity peeked for seeing this all for themselves. It took a bit of time for Bowman to finish up the elongated story. Through it all, Cerul couldn't detect even the barest hint of betrayal or lie. That this was a trap the humans had set for Bowman to lead them to the village like some had rightly feared. Cerul stood near the windows and looked down at the mostly emptied space. People finishing up whatever they had to do outside of their homes before heading deep inside the protective trees in fear. He sighed and said, “Bowman, I need to speak to Scar alone. You can go home for now.”

Bowman looked like he was about to argue but took a breath. Bowing and turning towards the balcony again, flying off and down on home.

“Scar.” Cerul paced around. “I think he's telling the truth.”

Scar frowned and folded his arms. “Of course. Spirits Dance, if there's a human in the woods, Bowman and Sam are the ones that will find it. They are drawn to trouble like bees to flowers.” He sighed and said, “We can't just sit here. We will go and meet up with these humans and their small monster. Perhaps the other Sam and the other small human, Oscar? Perhaps they need our help to get away from the humans?”

Cerul shook his head. “I would have sensed something off in Bowman's assessment of the situation. I don't think they are in any harm with the giants.” He thought about their options for a few minutes. “We will take half of the Knights with us, but they are to hang back in the shadows. We don't want to show them our numbers if they do mean us harm. If there are more out in the woods waiting for the village to be undefended.”

Scar agreed with that decision.

“I will ask Rischa to join us.”

A sharp intake of breath escaped Scar. “She's a child!”

“She's old enough to decide for herself.” Cerul reminded him. “I don't know how much healing energy is needed to help out this, Dean. The Spirit gives us the ability to pray for healing, I think it will be a good learning experience for her. I wont be around forever, and she will be looked to for guidance. She'll be safe with all of us around her.” He assured and turned back to the window. Leaning out of it to see Bowman talking to Rischa already on their own balcony. “I don't think she needs much convincing.” He commented when he saw the young girl bouncing around in excitement. Wings all a flutter.

Scar rubbed his hands down his face. Able to show more raw emotions around his good friend. “You're incorrigible.”

“Yes.” Cerul smirked. “And you took on a wolf. Scar Wolfblind.” He reminded.

Scar waved his hand to get rid of the statement. “I only did what needed doing.”

“ _Exactly._ ” the implications of that one word spoke volumes.

“Would you _stop that_.” Scar growled.

“Nope.” Cerul chuckled and flew off, knowing that he'd won that argument.

Scar got to his feet and grumbled before straightening up and tugging down his Knights garb to look more austere before flying down to the lined up Knights and dividing them up for who stays and who goes. There was little arguments because all of the Knights were trained for taking care of dangers and sworn allegiance to the cause. Scar took his Knights to the large fallen tree to wait there for Lord Cerul, Bowman and an excited Rischa to catch up. Then the whole group took the the air and knew just where to go. On the way, Scar instructed his men where to hide to surround the clearing on all sides so there was no confusion. Rischa was a bundle of questions and Bowman answered them all to the best of his abilities as they flew.

“I can't wait to see big brothers even _bigger_ brother!” She beamed and twirled in the air.

“He's not. Birdie.” He sighed, catching up to her. “He's not gonna look like us, or like Sam. Dean looks like a lizard with long... well, long _everything._ Huge wings! Nearly twice the size of ours! They said he's about six inches tall, but, he was too weak to stand.” Bowman said, feeling upset for the sad state of the thing. Human or animal or monster, didn't matter. Dean was clearly in pain. “He's been through a lot and been hurt badly. Two of his legs are bandaged and his breathing... it hurt to hear it. He couldn't even stay awake long enough to say more then a sentence here and there. So weak.” Bowman cleared his throat. “He's definitely scary looking at first, claws, spikes, horns, and fangs, but I believe he's a good person. It's Sam's brother, how bad could he be? It's just... Just not... the same Dean from our world. I don't think we should hold that against him.” He added. Reevaluating his own opinion. They weren't intending to barge into Wellwood, they were brought here by something unseen. That portal? Is that what the humans called it? Maybe it was destiny. A cruel one, perhaps. Sam sees Dean again but it's not his own. And not only that, hes injured and near death and will leave the second he's healed. Sam will loose his brother all over again and even if it hurt to think about, he knew they couldn't just ignore it.

She nodded severely at him. Feeling his emotions turn to sadness thinking about Dean. She felt the emotions shift like a wave in the Knights flying closest. Having heard Bowman talking. Their opinions and feelings changing ever so slightly from anger at the intruders towards sympathy for someone they haven't met yet.

“Almost there.” Scar said quietly and with a few waves of his hand, the Knights split out to the sides and circled the area towards their predestined posts.

Bowman kept going, flanked by Scar on one side, and Cerul on the other, keeping Birdie right behind him, just in case. He used a phrase that Sam had taught him long ago, “Here goes nothing.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I made any mistakes, any whatsoever in this or other chapters, *please let me know!* I wrote like 90% of this today and edited it right after. Took ten straight hours and I'm going blind staring at the white computer pages!  
> Oh, and the amount of research I had to do?!?!? like whoa. Totally worth it. 
> 
> What do you guys think?


	10. You'll Forget About Me After I've Been Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does help finally come to Dean before it's too late? Or is a war started between the sprites and the invaders?

Chapter Ten:

You'll Forget About Me After I've Been Gone

 

 

 

Bowman took the lead after getting the go ahead from Lord Scar, since the humans had already met him and trust him. None of the sprites wanted the group at the clearing to feel like this was a trap. Even if they appear to have prepared an ambush for them... Bowman put out a little extra burst of speed and saw the Knights circle around in the thick foliage. Worrying his lower lip if they were discovered and the humans thought the worst. The gravity of this meeting hitting home as he broke through the thick leaves and looped around the clearing, circling everyone and making sure that they too weren't hiding anything before his cousin and the Lords came out. Glad that his brother was alright, and waving for him to come on down and join them.

When Bowman got closer and landed a few feet away, between the two small groups. He gave a respectful nod to the humans then the sprite sized people. “Spirit shine upon you.” He started with the formal greeting since the Lords were watching and listening in and he didn't want to seem rude. Bowman was going for the most diplomatic voice he could muster and got a head tilt from Castiel and dead silence from the others. “I have brought two of our most respected an noble Lords to assist you this day.”

“Bowman? What the Spirits dance are you...” Sam started to ask but saw Lord's Cerul and Scar fly in with Rischa at Cerul's other side. He stood up straight and brushed off his outfit quickly. Bowing deeply towards them.

The amount of pomp and circumstance these two were displaying for the newcomers had Sam and Cas straighten up as well, even if it made them even taller sitting there on the ground. Oscar and Sam saw everyone else doing it, so they did likewise. Oscar had never met a noble Lord before and was nervous for the first meeting. His friend staying close by for moral support.

Cerul was nearly beaming. Already sensing out everyone here and the nervousness at their arrival. The honest desire to impress, and the care taken on their part not to insult them. He flew closer and Scar was just a hairs breath behind, landing at the same time. Rischa landed behind Bowman, peering past his wings shyly at so many new people. New feelings coming at her from foreign minds. Everyone keeping at least one eye on the two humans. Bowman folded his wings a bit more to show her a better sight of them. Patting her side behind him to assure her it was truly alright.

Cerul bowed to the mixed group in return, and Scar just nodded his head for a few seconds.

The Knight hesitated for just a moment before coming forward and greeting them. “Lord Cerul, Lord Scar. This is Sam Winchester, Castiel Novak.” He gestured upwards to the humans who relaxed their posture and waved politely as the Knight went on. “They are from another world, where it is 2017. There are many other differences that we were just discussing.” Sam said and turned to the other one his size. “And this is also Sam Winchester and Oscar. They are from a different world entirely, and it is 2006 for them.” The other Sam waved and Oscar swallowed hard and lifted a hand for a fraction of a second before disappearing behind his friend's back again.

Cerul felt the fear coming from Oscar but quickly understood, this was a common thing for him to feel, so he didn't take offense. He knew that this was all very _very_ new for him in particular, so made it a point to nudge his fellow Lord into toning down the stoic guardian warrior, a little with just a few imploring looks exchanged between them.

Scar sighed under his breath and made an effort to smile widely at everyone. Lips pulled back to show all of his friendly teeth.

It terrified his young Knight, Sam and younger Patrol sprite, Bowman. Usually Lord Scar would only smile like that in battling a formidable enemy. Relishing a good challenge to hone his impressive skills. “There is no reason to fight these people!” Sam blurted out and caught himself. “They came here for help. I was hoping we could lend them some of the spirits healing strength for... for Dean.” Sam said and turned to the side to indicate that they could follow him closer.

Cerul shot a scolding look at Scar for going overboard and Scar shrugged back, putting on his neutral, vaguely disapproving, expression again.

Cerul spoke up. “We know, Sam. Bowman filled us in. Let's see what we are dealing with.” And started forward with a casual gait, patting his brave Knight's shoulder as he passed.

His kind and blunt words and actions helped relax everyone. Cas unfolded the shirt nest to expose more of Dean's body to the shorter people. Gingerly lifting him up and setting him down again on the trench coat that was covering the ground. The Lords looked down questioningly at the tan fabric and stepped on, sinking a little into it because it was being partially supported by grass. It made Scar stumble, expecting a solid surface. Rischa dove right on. Giggling at the slight bounce in every step, wings fanning to keep her balance on it. Bowman wrapped an arm and wing around her to keep her from darting ahead of the Lords. Sometimes she acted just like a curl winged nestling.

Dean whined through gritted teeth when he was moved before pursing his thin lips together. Breathing out of his nose to keep himself quiet and shifting into a better position. Wings trembled and fanned out to lessen the weight on his sides. Getting rid of the slight heaviness around his ribs. He was breathing even harsher now then before Bowman left, and his eyes less focused in just that short time.

The Lords came within a foot of Dean who's nose started twitching, inhaling and sniffing at the air. 'Whole salad bar.' He huffed a laugh that turned into a harsh cough, angling his head away to keep his flammable spray away from the short people. The coughing turning even more violent, wracking his already hurt body with the full throated hacks. A short flame burst out when his sparker teeth accidentally clacked hard together, and everyone jumped back, Scared. Another short fireball burst followed right after with the harsh coughs. Dissipating before it settled anywhere to do any damage, but it still terrified all of the short people that had no idea Dean could _do that_!

Oscar tripped over himself to get away and Sam nearly joined his friend. The Knight went for his sword on instinct, grabbing the hilt only, keeping it sheathed as his eyes were still trained on Dean's smoking mouth. The stench of smoke in the air wafted around them.

Scar raised up his hand high and Bowman darted a frightened look all around them.

“Don't!” Bowman shouted in panic. “I don't think he wanted to do that!” He didn't think, he just spread his leafy wings wide to block Scar's view of Dean protectively.

Castiel noticed slight movements to his left, a tiny glint of light reflecting off of something in there. Eyes going wide when he saw a different sprite holding out a sword in front of herself. He brought his hands down around Dean who had just worked the coughing fit out of his system before being covered up by two huge hands. Cas's eyes darted all around at more glints of metal swords. They were surrounded. “This was a trick?” Castiel looked down at the group on the ground. He turned to his friend. “Sam, they're all around us.” He frowned, brows lowering. “You brought them here to attack in an ambush?” He aimed his ire at Bowman who shot his hands up.

“No! We just... it's!” He stammered. It was not his place to question the Lord's decisions. He could feel the peaceful meeting turning south in a hurry if they didn't say or do something right now. Turning to his leaders, “He didn't mean to!” He gestured to Dean while speaking to Scar. Hoping that it really was an accident. Bowman could bop those stupid humans! They could have _warned him_ that Dean can make _fire out of his mouth!_ That should have been one of the first things disclosed!

“We _trusted_ you.” The human Sam leaned over towards Dean. Hands going to large fists on the ground. Oscar and Sam didn't know what to do, side with the sprites or with Sam and Castiel who never said _anything_ about Dean being able to set things on _fire. W_ hat else did they lie about? Keep hidden. Both of them looking up and around at all of the tense faces. A fight itching to start.

Lord Scar still had his hand up. But the way that human was speaking... they had not been readying for a fight? The one Bowman called Dean was clearly sick and in great pain. The fire probably _was_ an accident for its kind. Who here could control a cough or sneeze? If Dean intended harm on anyone, he could have just left his head laying down facing the sprites instead of turning the coughs away.

Rischa was just as scared as everyone else, hugging tightly to Bowman's side as his wings were still raised, blocking Dean from what he perceived as an enemy. That gave Scar pause. Bowman was clearly not wanting to fight Scar, but also not wanting Scar to fight Dean or the others. Cerul was just as tense as he was but it was due to what could happen in the next few seconds if this escalated unjustly. At the moment, everyone was silently waiting for someone to make the first move. Lord Scar looked all around at his circle of men. All were poised and ready, eyes on him for the command to start. The humans did not move besides turning to face their potential attackers. The human Sam brought over his hand to block the small Sam and Oscar from view as well. Keeping them from being attacked, without grabbing them in a fist. Using his hand as a shield instead of a weapon.

“Scar.” Cerul said quietly and the other Lord got the subtle meaning loud and clear. Scar raised his other hand and with deliberate clear movements, gave the signal to stand down again. All of his Knight's put their swords down and away, hovering in place.

Scar stared at the monster who was whining and moaning even more now. From this distance away he could see the small drops of blood that had sprayed out of the mouth onto the tan fabric below. The coughing fit must have hurt with the addition of that strange fire. Wondering why it's own fire injured it. “Explain what happened.” He said loudly in a stern voice.

Castiel refused to remove his hands from Dean who wasn't complaining about the warm safe cave. Dean's nose was plugging up with all of the mucus and some blood, but he could still tell that everyone was anxious and angry. It killed him to know that he was the cause of it, but could do nothing to stop it. It hurt to do anything in any case. Even thinking hurt his throbbing head so he let Cas take care of him. Trusting him and his brother with his life.

Sam cleared his throat, and saw all of the small people look at him expectantly. Even the little borrowers were looking scared as hell from Dean's tiny fireball. Sam kept his voice calm, “Dean is a Drauglin. Where I come from, we come from,” He gestured to Cas and Dean as well, “They are generally called dragons. Our society and world thinks that dragons don't exist in anything but fairy tailes. However, they do live and breath, humans made them out to be evil monsters but they are anything but. They are intelligent. Usually peaceful.”

“Usually.” Scar narrowed his eyes, fingers tapping on his sword handle.

“Yeah. Like in any group, there's good eggs and bad ones.” The terminology made them confused so he clarified. “Just like how not all people are good, not all dragons are, but in their case, _all of them_ were judged on the bad ones. They were and are still being hunted down by Hunters, and punished for the acts of a few. There are rampant misunderstandings about their roles in nature. They are actually caretakers of the wild. Different kinds of Drauglin's evolved for different locations. From what we've learned, is that there's some that live in the ocean, making sure there isn't one overpopulated group decimating their food stores. There are some that live in the mountains, the deserts, the valleys, and those like him, are ones that live in the forests that make sure that predator and prey populations of animals are balanced. Not only that, but help stabilize environments.” Sam explained and was glad that he had everyone's ear. That the general mood was calming down. “He can set things on fire, that's true, but this time it was an accident. He sometimes grinds his sparker teeth when he sneezes, or in this case, coughs too harshly. He can usually control it. If he wasn't so weak, and something caught on fire, he could put it out before it does any real harm. But, that's uh. That's when he's his natural size. We had to shrink him down from 30 feet tall, to this size so we could transport and hide him easier. Since his skin is thinner, he hurt himself by causing that little fireball. It burned his mouth.” Sam was depressed that on top of everything, Dean had to deal with burns. He and Cas slowly uncovered Dean with the tempers calming.

Cas picked up the explanation next. “This specie of Drauglin produces flames because some old growth forests need fire to take down the elder trees that had gotten too large or diseased, making way for new healthy trees to take it's place. Pine cones need excessive heat to open up the seeds and the ash created from the burnt trees gives them nutrients. Your forest is old, but it's still good for another few hundred years before it needs resetting.” Cas noted, looking up and around if they were worried Dean was here to burn it down around them. “Drauglin's only take care of their own sections. And do not destroy needlessly. They need these natural defenses because sometimes, there is an overpopulation of predators in an area that lacks their own natural enemies. Bears for example. These creatures evolved to be able to take out anything harmful to their woods. Anything threatening to upset the balance. Sometimes the threats includes monsters that go after humans.” Castiel was glad to see that apparently the Knight Sam knew about monsters and he'd shared that information to the leaders he'd brought here. Giving common ground. “Not all Drauglin's are born of Drauglin's. Since they are so rare, the females are able to make new offspring by swallowing an animal whole and alive, laying an egg with her genetic makeup mixed with the new. This is why Dean looks the way he does. His Drauglin mother, for lack of a better term, looked very similar but she was midnight black and sleeker. Dean had freckles and was Caucasian like us, and had green eyes and bowlegs. I know you can't tell from him laying down, but he kept the bowlegs.” Cas found himself rambling, turning to Sam.

“Dean and I are monster Hunters, and we were on a hunt for what we thought was a vellum – a nasty monster that kills anything in its territory, but it turned out to be the black Drauglin. I was ignorant of the Dragulin's role and took out her nest. She saw it was a total lose so she took Dean instead to start anew. I only saw a monster and I regret every single one of my actions that day. Our old friend Bobby and I found Dean again but it was too late, he was a toddler Drauglin back then, about the same size as a small horse.” Seeing the confused expressions. “Right, you don't have horses. Uh, a large buck. Four feet tall at the shoulder. Anyway. We brought him home, started to raise him but he was kidnapped, tortured and nearly killed several times over. We were able to rescue him from a cage, from people that wanted to kill him for study, and been on the run since. We stopped at a hotel and something happened overnight. Now, any doorway, or gate, we go through, apparently leads to another world. Like yours for example, and theirs.” He gestured down at Sam and Oscar who had heard this story before and their feelings on it helped Cerul and Rischa believe and sympathize. They could also tell that this wasn't the first time Sam had to explain things out but it was their first time hearing it and were glad for it.

The voice rumbled on, “So, Dean found their world first, and thought that Sam here was in trouble and brought him to our room. He had been injured on the way there when some plaster rocks fell on him, aggravating an old wound into bleeding. He was never in top shape since we escaped with him from the cage. I'm scared he's...” Sam trailed off, clearing his throat and going back to his story. “Oscar came to fight him to get his little friend back, but well, fighting is not necessary.” Sam winked at Oscar who was blushing like mad. “I was talking with Sam after visiting several other worlds where we met other versions of ourselves and other versions of Dean. Giants, tinies and us when we were kids but Dean was the shrunken one. Every world so far centered around my brother and me. I never intended to come here, I was going to show Sam here what vellum tracks look like, how to see clues of their presence so he could learn to find them in his world. When I walked us through a short fence to a lightly wooded dog park, and wound up here instead. Cas followed with Oscar and Dean right after. And I assure you, we can leave the same way. We did not mean to barge in on your world. But, now that we're here...” Sam glanced down to the Knight and Bowman to help him out.

“Like we said,” The Knight turned back Cerul and Rischa. “He really needs your help.”

Rischa had tears in her eyes. Feeling the pain the two humans and especially Dean were experiencing. Reliving their story. She pushed Bowman from his blocking her, and ran to Dean's side. Hands laying flat on his neck. Dean startled at the sudden contact and turned his head to see.

Bowman had been hot on her heels with the Lords following right after, shocked into action.

With her hands on Dean she could feel it all. She gasped and the tears flowed harder. Such pain. Torment. She'd never experienced so much in one single body before. She opened her eyes when she felt Bowman's hands on her own shoulders realizing that she was hugging the wide neck, half curled into Dean. Cerul was there and laid a hand on Dean's wing shoulder next. He too felt almost overwhelmed. Surprised that this Dean wasn't _screaming_ from the intense pain. He was holding it all in, using all his strength to keep it from showing. His other hand landed on the skin just above the bandage around the foreleg. A soft glow emanating from under his hands that spread under the scaled skin.

Dean whimpered, starting to thrash weakly away from them, away from the strange feelings, but Cas lowered his hand to keep the large brown wings from knocking anyone over. Finally he let out a yowl the same time that the veins lit up under his skin and flesh.

Sam leaned over him as well, casting everyone in shadow. His hand came down in front of Dean's muzzle. “Bite down on this, Dean.” He urged and brushed his finger against Dean's nose and winced as the sharp teeth clamped down around the finger, drawing a small amount of blood. It helped transfer some of Dean's pain into Sam. “That's good. You're doing good, Dean.” He assured, using his other fingers to stroke along his neck, but keeping free of the sprites that were pouring the strange light into him. He could see Dean's veins light up under the scales, trailing up and down the contact points all over his body. Tracing the path to his wings, tail, legs, everywhere. He prayed that they were doing the right thing. That this wasn't some kind of mercy killing he was witnessing them perform.

Bowman was behind his cousin and his brother came up next. Helping her stay on her feet since all her attention was being put into chanting and praying for the Spirit's healing powers. This was far different than healing a fellow sprite or animal. Dean had been through _so much_ , so many different kinds of pain. They could only heal the physical and it was obvious that Birdie was trying to heal the emotional as well.

Cerul felt it too, and slowed his flow to address her, “Rischa.” He said gently, eyes still closed but he faced her. “It's not for us to heal that.”

She nodded a few times and squinted out more tears. “I just wish I...”

“It's alright. We just need to make him well enough to heal on his own.” And lifted a hand to pat her shoulder. She reluctantly pulled back and concentrated on the blood flow. Boosting the body's ability to produce more from the bone marrow. The physiology was similar enough to an animal's so it was easier for her to find Dean's life force and help it along. Surprised to see that Dean wasn't the only one in this body. Another consciousness was rousing. Now that she was pulled away from his emotions, Dean relaxed a little.

 

Dean felt the intrusion on his mind and memories, and the Drauglin side was starting to stir. Dean found himself somewhat more lucid then before, still in the dream-state but he could now see his Drauglin laying there under the large tree in their shared Dreamscape. The vast land that used to be their combined forest and cabin playground, had been reduced to one small sad scrubby hill, with a single wilting tree. Their shared favorite tree that was where they met to talk or exchange control over the body. Dean was standing there, in his preferred human form, wearing the same clothes he had when he was taken, and walked over to Dane who was his own preferred size of just 15 feet tall instead of the normal size which is far larger. Dean was grateful his Drauglin half was being considerate to appear more approachable this size, even if Dane had been in some kind of coma this whole time since the hotel.

Dean had to go slow, stumbling on the grass and collapsed next to Dane's side. Watching as the tail of his Drauglin side thrash about in the plants behind it. Dean laid a calming hand on Dane's chest next to him, to reassure him. Dane curled his head around his human counterpart and grumbled.

'Dean? That you?' Dane squinted an eye open. Brow furrowed. Everything around them was narrowed down to this one spot, and nearly black and white. Hardly any color at all.

“Yeah, it's just me, Flame brains.” Dean grinned, stroking Dane's foreleg that was injured out in the real world.

'What is going on?' Dane looked up and saw that the sky overhead had arcing streaks of light that glowed like a tree and its numerous thick branches. Not like lightning at all. Hazy around the edges and it pulsed along the same invisible pathways. The forest had been wilting and drab but now started to grow green again.

“I don't know... I think... someone's helping us.” Dean watched the pulse get stronger, feeling the air pick up from its stagnated state to allow a nice breeze. The area sprouted trees again, slow at first, like saplings in spring. The air like a gray fog lifting from their vision to reveal their shared forest. Expanding in every direction. Dean lifted his hands, flexing them into fists and back. “You feeling that too?”

Dane curled his long neck around to see Dean better. Spreading the wing that wasn't up against the tree out to shade Dean. He rumble chirped, 'Yeah. It is... not hurting anymore.' And flexed his left leg out along the ground, his left arm going next. 'Get off of me, you heavy _biped_.' Dane growled and nipped at Dean's leg for the human to stand.

“Keep your pants on.” Dean grouched but it sounded teasingly enough to the Drauglin.

'I do not wear pants.' Dane chirped and now that Dean was far enough away, he rocked to his stomach from his side, and got his four legs into position. 'I feel like I hadn't stood up correctly in ages.' He admitted and lifted his front half up first, waiting for the pain to spike up his arm but it didn't come. He looked up at the sky and the pulsing light trails were pounding hard now. The yellow light branches mixing with the now bluing sky and turning it into dazzling rays of light. Dane wasted no time in lifting up his hips next and was standing on all fours. Wings had been draped to either side in case he fell, but he was able to lift the wings up and fold them naturally. Towering over Dean who started laughing joyfully. 'Son of a bitch.' Dane breathed.

“You stole my line!” Dean crowed and came forward to hug Dane's chest. His head not even making it to the Drauglin's shoulder but neither cared. Dane brought over his right arm and held the small biped against himself. Bowing his long head and neck down in their version of a hug.

The sky's light show slowed and they both looked up. A rumble of thunder in the blue sky. The pulse familiar now that the light tree had gone from the vibrant blue sky.

Dane turned his head to the side, his side fan ears spreading at the next rumble and looked down to the short biped. 'They're asking for you.'

Dean looked up past Dane's long muzzle and frowned. “But.. are you...?”

'I will be fine.' Dane let go of Dean and sat down again. 'I do not know who is out there, and I think I do not want to know just yet.' He chirped sniffing the air. 'Smells... weird. I do not know what those are, but it is like... plants and earth and people all in one.' Dean furrowed his brow. One of Dean's memories filtered through their shared head and he knew Dean would find it humorous. 'Have fun with Treebeard and the Ents. And make sure they know that we didn't mean to set their kin on fire.' He growled seriously and motioned to the woods around them. 'Good luck.' he chirped playfully, and pushed at Dean's chest with his nose. 'Tell them Thanks, for me.'

“I will.” Dean promised and stepped back from his Drauglin half. “I'll make sure to let them know that it's your fault we can only eat meat. I'm sure those vegetarians will love hearing that!”

'You stupid biped, we share the _same body_!' Dane called back to Dean's retreating form. 'You eat more meat then I do!'

“What? I can't hear y-” he called back with a smile on his voice till he dissipated backwards out of the Dreamscape and into the waking world.

Dane rolled his eyes before standing to stretch again. Flapping his wide wings in the strong winds that he wanted to face. He bared his teeth at in in glee and took to the sky. Flying hard and fast and crowing with thanks to the helpful beings above.

 

Dean felt all kinds of points of contact on his scales, all of them soft and gentle. Something that had bound his arm and leg was now being taken off, a tugging sensation followed by a tingling of fresh air on his skin. He cautiously flexed his hand and foot, feeling the freedom of motion. He tentatively sniffed the air and that same strange scent was still there. Next he smelled Sammy... and a different Sam scent... and _another?_ What the hell? He inhaled the air again and could tell Cas was all around him, his warm scent calming him down along with his huge brother's presence nearby. His lungs didn't burn when he took a deep breath. Fully expecting them to since they had for so long. His mouth tasted like burnt ash but it no longer stung. Another few deep breaths and he was glad that the first easy breath wasn't a fluke. He genuinely felt better.

“Dean?” Sam said, hand stroking along his neck and it was much smaller then Dean was used to. He lifted up his heavy eyelids and saw his brother's face nearby but frowned when he saw another Sam right next to him. 'Double vision. Perfect.' Dean grumbled, blinking hard to get rid of the sight but was confused as hell when the two images just looked at each other and one came closer to run light fingers along the bridge of his nose. The other Sam wore tan and hung back.

“Is he alright?” A young girl's voice came from the ground and Dean turned his head to see that the small child was laying there on some leaves, breathing hard as if she'd been hurt or exhausted.

'Are _you_ alright?' He asked, worried that he'd somehow hurt her, and turned to see her fully, blinking at the fact that her image wasn't split in two like Sam's was. He heard a loud voice above.

“He'd asking if you're alright Miss. Rischa.” Cas. That was Cas speaking.

'What happened?' Dean asked, sniffing at her for injury or pain but wasn't getting much for feelings. Brow furrowing at that. He can detect human emotions pretty easily but her's were muted. Still there, but, not as strong.

She sat upright and smiled wide at seeing and feeling Dean's concern for her. “I'm good, Dean.” She said informally and someone came up behind her, lifting her up and Dean's eyes went wide when those large leaves she was laying on were attached to her back. They were _wings_. He blinked dumbly at her and she fluttered them at him. “I'm a Wood sprite who has the Voice.” She explained to the question she felt on his mind. “We healed you.” She continued and reached forward to pet at his nose.

He stilled his knee jerk reaction to back up from the strange girl's approach. Her sweet expression and movements were clearly a kids, and he did not want to hurt some very small kid. Even if they didn't really look human, and were talking about being able to actually heal people. It screamed supernatural but he felt that she wasn't dangerous. Just a kid. So he kept still and let her pet his long nose and up past his eyebrow ridge to curl tiny fingers around his sidefan ears. Scratching behind the folds of his left sidefan, like one would scratch a pet dog's ear, and he twitched them, surprised it felt kinda good but also tickled. He blinked at her owlishly. Movement caught his eyes and he saw several more of the same kinds of creatures right there. Shrinking back he wondered what they wanted from him. Surrounded on nearly all sides. Just because this little girl was kind, doesn't mean they all were.

'What's going on?' He asked again when he definitely saw two different Sam's standing there. Not a double since their clothes were way different. Another short man with wild mouse brown hair, standing behind the one in a tan jacket and bag, while the other Sam had on a green outfit that looked straight out of Lord of the Rings. A sword at Sam's side. He tore his eyes away to see two older men that just screamed authority figures from Rivendell. The urge to insist he's not Smaug was great.

Dean gulped a little at the wave of emotions coming from everyone. Assessing everyone and their motives, looking at the one that was behind the young girl, this guy had crazy green hair and was younger then Sam seemed alright. No sudden moves. The Sam that was wearing the green outfit had a sword and appeared to know how to use it. It made Dean a little nervous since sharp knives and swords could easily get past his scales where blunt forces and fires didn't work so well. If they wanted to take him out, it would be easy. This Sam, just like the other one, was also far younger then he should be. Memories coming back to him of at least the tan jacketed borrower Sam and the short dude, Oscar who were standing a little ways off. Giving the green squad room. His observations cut off with one of the regal dudes spoke up, halting the mean looking leader dude in his tracks when he started to get closer.

“Let him process this, Scar.” He said calmly and when Dean narrowed his gaze on him, the regal dude bowed slightly. The first one to properly introduce himself. “I am Lord Cerul, of Wellwood.” Dean stared at him before realizing he should probably answer back.

'Dean. Of uh, Kansas.' He rumble chirped and heard Cas's voice translate for him over head. Looking up and grinning widely at him, spotting his Sam sitting right there as well. 'Hey guys. So uh, what's up with uh, fairyland?'

Sam gave him a mild bitchface. “Lord Cerul and Miss. Rischa here healed you. You nearly _died,_ Dean.” The rest of it didn't have to be said, 'Show them some respect, Jerk.'

Dean turned back to the small gathering of Sam's and green winged people and said, 'Thanks. For uhm healing me and stuff. I guess I owe you one.' And Sam translated it with slightly more embellishments. Always was better at talking with people.

“Our pleasure.” Cerul nodded and introduced the rest of the group, sensing the continued confusion. “This is Lord Scar, high General of Wellwood, and his Knight's are gathered around us to ensure everyone's safety.” He said to reiterate the point that they were not there to fight. “This is one of them, you might recognize him. Sam Winchester, Knight of Wellwood.”

Dean saw the mixed expressions in that Sam's eyes. Like he hadn't seen him in awhile. Memories of the other borrower Sam coming back saying that he and his Dean had been separated for over a decade, apparently this one hadn't met back up with his brother yet. Dean gulped audibly. So much longing in those hazel eyes. He had no idea what to say to him. The Lord Cerul dude continued on.

“This is one of our honorable patrol sprites, Bowman Leafwing.” Bowman took the opportunity to hold out his hand as introduction, as he'd seen his brother do a few times before, and Dean turned to his side to offer his own huge clawed hand. Bowman marveled at it before grabbing hold of the fore paw that was much larger then he anticipated and shook it using both of his hands. The weight of that one paw was nearly too much for the willowy figure. His wings twitched with strain before he dropped the paw again. Dean huffed a few laughs at that. Turning to the girl as she was introduced next.

“And this is my apprentice of sorts, another healer with the Voice, like myself who helped save your life. Rischa Songbird.”

“Hi!” She chirped at him and did not hesitate to jump forward and hug his neck. He leaned to the side enough to bring a wing around to hug her back as gently as possible. His size alone could overpower her if he moved wrong.

Bowman blushed at his young cousin's behavior and came forward to collect her again. “Birdie...” He playfully admonished and pat Dean's wing wrist before it retreated. “Birdie's always like this.”

'No problem.' Dean chirped back. Playfully nudging her side with the side of his long nose. She was so tiny compared to him. Just a few inches tall. Most of these people here didn't go past four inches tall, and he knew he was about six. So he stayed more or less laying down to be more eye level.

“And I believe you know the others?” Cerul asked and Dean nodded back.

'Oh yeah, we go way back.' He chirped. Turning to the Sam in the tan jacket. 'Sorry I kidnapped you, Sam.' His brother translated overhead and the kid came over to punch his cheek. The next instant waving his curled fingers about in the air because it was a totally dumbass idea to go punching dragons with thick scaled hides. 'Ok. Now we're even?' His head cocked to the side and watched as Sam hugged his hurt knuckles to his stomach. A mighty string of curses on his lips begging to be let out. 'Even.' He grinned slyly and turned to Oscar. 'I don't remember kidnapping you though... I was going to, but passed out.'

Castiel filled in the blank for Dean. “He came to take Sam back.”

'Oh. Well, yeah.' Dean felt uncomfortable, shifting in place. 'Sorry.' He mumbled and lifted up his hand for a handshake with Oscar, but the poor guy hid behind Sam again. 'Right. Gotcha.' Dean felt worse for scaring him. Clearing his throat awkwardly. He hated being the center of attention. It sucked. It was his fault all this happened in the first place. 'I just want to say, I'm sorry. Everyone.' Standing up and folding up his wings tightly to his sides. Seeing everyone take several cautious steps back. Accepting that reaction since it's one he's gotten over and over again. 'So I guess... we should get going?' He asked his huge brother.

Sam didn't have to read his mind to get that Dean was already beating himself up again.

'Don't.' Dean growled upwards. 'I don't need your pity or sad eyes, Sam. I caused this.' And started walking away. No particular direction. Just away. He saw nothing but forest all around. Beyond the first few trees his gaze picked up on several of the Knight's that Cerul guy mentioned. 'Are they going to fight me if I try and leave?' He asked over his shoulder and Cerul came flying over, past the two humans who had remained sitting but turned.

“I can't understand your speech but I can feel what you're feeling.” He said, landing in front of Dean. His hands up in a peaceful stance. “Your human brother explained it to us. What you'd gone through.”

'What I caused.'

“What you tried to do.” Cerul clarified.

Dean huffed at him in irritation and strode past. Dean was able to detect where his brother and boyfriend had came into the clearing, intent on following the scent trail back to civilization. Wherever that is. He had no memory of a random forest like this one near the motel. It was too warm here for one thing. For another, there were all these leaf winged dudes flying around with yet another one of his younger brothers. So, obviously another world altogether. Awesome.

Cerul took to the air again, landing in front of Dean and folding his arms.

Dean bared his teeth for a moment and heard several Knight's pull their swords out. Eyes darting up and around while still facing the sprite blocking his exit. 'You gonna keep me here? You heal me up just so you can hold me against my will?'

Cerul looked upset and sad at the barrage of feelings accompanying those questioning growls. Anger, betrayal, but above all, fear. Dean was putting up a front of pissed off monster but really, he was terrified of being restrained again. It hit Cerul like someone knocked him from the sky. His hands that had been folded covered his heart. He heard tiny fast footsteps coming up behind and was soon joined by Rischa.

“Please don't be scared Dean!” She cried up at his towering form. Bowman was right there a second later, holding onto her arms. Not two seconds later, the green Sam was there as well, holding up his hands to keep him back followed by the tan jacket Sam doing the same. Dean turned to see that Oscar too was debating if he should confront him, keep him from leaving.

Dean was starting to feel cornered and let out a low growl a the lot of them. 'Don't come any closer.' He warned, wings unfolding. Everyone stopped their advance. His wingspan was over twice theirs, no telling how fast he could fly. If he would try and escape them that way.

“Dean?” The Knight said, hands going up again. “It's alright. We just wanted to help. No one is going to keep you here.”

Dean flared his nostrils at him, scenting the air and got a whole muzzle full of concern and worry coming at him. It baffled him to no end. Sure that he wasn't getting that right. He honestly had no idea how to respond to that. Not wanting to hurt this Sam's feelings any more. He's probably looking at this like a rejection. Like his big brother doesn't want him anymore. 'Sammy.' Dean sighed. Head drooping down to stare at the ground before turning to him. 'I hope you find your Dean. I'm not him. I can't help you.' All the while he heard either Cas or Sam helping him translate, the ones on the ground looking timidly up at the humans when they spoke.

Dean folded up his wings again, the ones on the ground folded theirs as well, Dean had no doubt in his mind that since they were born with wings, they'd be far better fliers then him. He was still getting the hang of it since for most of this Drauglin life, it had been the hybrid in charge. He and Dane only recently split up inside the mind, the hybrid dispersing into both, but at the same time, neither of them. Dane was always the better flier. Dean was still scared of heights. He would fly if he had to, but preferred not to. Besides all that, it would be very hard for him to follow the trail Sam and Cas left on the ground while he's flying high enough to avoid running into the many trees, bushes, and grasses. These, sprite guys, or whatever, would surround him before he even got started.

Dean turned to see everyone's eyes still glued on him and he shrugged his wing shoulders. 'Fine. You got me. Now what?' Giving up was the only logical thing to do. Neither his brother or boyfriend were looking like they wanted to leave yet, so he'd have no chance up against all these Knight's solo.

“They don't intend on keeping us, Dean.” Castiel said and reached over to drape his right hand around Dean's side. Thumb stroking along his spine.

'But he wants me to stay.' Dean pointed at the Knight Sam. 'I can't be the brother he deserves.'

“You don't have to.” Cas pet his side some more, angling his fingers to lift him off of the ground and bring him back over to look him in the eyes. “What we can do, is thank them for saving your life. Because none of us wanted you dead.”

Dean felt bad all over again. Ditching those that helped him out. He not only nearly got himself killed, he almost got Dane killed as well. He promised that flame brained bastard that he'd get him home, rescue his mother from the military. They weren't done with their story yet. He squirmed a little and Cas let him back down.

Dean sat still, watching as the group came back over with careful steps. Like anything was going to set him off and running. 'Hey, listen. I uh, sorry I was being a dick. I appreciate you guys uh, saving Dane's life. My life.' He bowed his head at them and stayed like that for a few long seconds. Just to make sure that they got his message. 'I'm just a hot mess.' He admitted to the ground and looked back up again when he heard them get closer.

“No problem.” City Sam said. Instead of punching him again, he just held out a fist for a bump. Sam hoped that in 2017 they were still doing fist bumps, because Dean was just sitting there, staring at his raised fist. He was about to lower it again, cheeks burning when the massive wing was brought forward with that long clawed thumb curled inwards, punching that, the wing opened wide and Sam copied the motion with a goofy grin. Biggest fist bump explosion _ever._ He turned to pull Oscar forward next who was wide eyed and protesting the whole way over but was propped up in front of the tall dragon. Sam had to gently manhandle Oscar's fist out and Dean waited patiently for it to do it all again, but this time both wings blew out wide and nearly gave Oscar a heart attack.

'Oh you are too fun little dude.' Dean grinned wide and brought both wings forward to hug Oscar's sides who stood stock still like Dean was going to crush him between the strong bent wing wrists. Dean just wriggled him side to side before letting go and backing up before Oscar did.

Dean heard the little girl come up next and hold out her hand flat and Dean chuckled, showing her how to fist bump and he grinned at the Knight showing her how. Hearing the humans amusement above them all at the new method of shaking hands. Instead of doing the normal bump, Rischa jumped into the air and hovered in front of Dean

“Wings!” She cried out, excitedly and Dean lifted his own and held them forward and splayed and she slapped them both with her own a few times while hovering there. “Fly with me!” She said and circled around Dean.

'I'm not very good at hovering...' Dean started but the adorable little girl was already doing loops in the air. Bowman took to the air next and hovered nearby. Unsure if he wanted to either bring his cousin back down or join in. Dean was feeling better and better. The mood going from depressing to energetic. Teasing. He always liked kids and they don't get much younger then these. He opened up his wings and loved the feel of there being no aches or pains there, or anywhere. Flapping a few times he was able to get some air underneath him. Thankfully, since they were all over the coat, there wasn't any dirt or dust kicked up, but the fabric did ripple. Dean landed a second later, after seeing the Knight look up all wistfully at the flying people.

Dean saw Sam's whole story in that one moment. This Sam grew up with the sprites. The only one out of all of them that doesn't have wings. Who couldn't ever fly. Couldn't join in. Well, Dean can do something about that. At least for today. He came over to the Knight and hunched his front half down, pushing the green Knight over to his shoulders with his curled wing. 'Get on Sammy, we got a race to win.'

The Knight was startled at the unexpected contact and didn't have to speak the language to understand what Dean wanted and backed up a step. “Whoa, no that's ok, maybe the other Sam?” Both turned to see the city Sam back up, waving his hands in front of himself like, 'No fucking way'. And Oscar was just plain missing.

Dean nodded with self satisfaction and heard the two Lords off to the side hunkering down with his humans. 'Come on Sammy, one lap around.' Dean wiggled his wings and Sam sighed heavily hair falling in his face. Annoyed but Dean could totally smell the excitement coming from the little green dude. Looks like this Sam's allergic to a good haircut as well. Sam tugged at his waist and Dean was about to say something about it but his brother from another world was just taking off his sword and knife, letting them fall to the ground before hoisting himself up onto Dean's back, sitting on the space between the four shoulders, and his small hands alternating between holding onto the neck or the spikes along the spine. Obviously looking for a way to hold on. Dean trotted over to the borrower Sam, making the Knight bounce along and clutch on tighter.

Thankfully his brother knew what Dean was looking for and pulled one of the paperclips he carries around for makeshift lock picks. Bending it into a good shape and Dean didn't hesitate to slip his head through it.

Surprising the borrower Sam because he remembered Dean's freakout in the hotel with the 'collar'. He felt like he should wait till after Dean leaves to let his human friend know about that part of their initial meeting. The trust these two have... so much like he and his own brother.

The Knight excitedly took the proffered 'handle' and held on tight as Dean wasted no more time getting a running start off of the ground.

Rischa and Bowman were looping around the area and found themselves being approached by a huge flying Drauglin. Both cried out in surprise as the massive wings beat the air down and Dean got some height to the flight. Sam felt the powerful muscles of the wings and back, flexing and pushing the air. Following the air currents and creating his own since he was so much bigger then the sprites. Dean banked to the side in a wide loop and Sam leaned into it as well, helping out. Feeling out the body's motions underneath him and learning how to work with them. A thrill he had never felt before. This wasn't passive gliding, this was going wherever he wanted to go. Dean took to his polite nudgings instantly. Sam turned the handle to the left and they went left, right, they went right. And Dean kept on going, chirping encouragements at him.

When Dean saw Bowman and the girl dart through the trees he turned his head and winked at his passenger. Sam pushed at Dean's chest below him with his heels and got the go-ahead to fly as fast as he could after the two green dots. Catching up to them in no time. Dean pushed himself farther and faster. Loving this feeling. The freedom, the joy coming from this young Sam. Like old times when he and his brother played around. Dean needed this as much as this Sam did apparently, and they dove down with a frightening speed, daring Bowman and Rischa to keep up, banking to the side and back up, following Sam's suggestions and Dean found himself flying better then he had before. The heights became less scary, more thrilling. He'd never go above the trees, but this, this was awesome.

Bowman angled his flight on back towards Jacob's clearing and Rischa followed suit. Dean took a few seconds to find them again and Sam helped him navigate on back. Living with sprites meant that he could spot them in the forest better. Dean was getting exhausted but it was so worth it. Sam pat the wide neck in front of him. “Thanks.” He said and Dean winked and chirped back. They saw that the Lords and borrowers and humans were already talking about something and went to join them. Dean nearly crash landed because he was not used to flying, let alone landing. Sam had a good death grip on the metal loop and stayed on top as Dean's wings beat forward to reduce the momentum. Landing hard and panting harder.

'Oh that was fun.' Dean huff laughed between the fast breaths. He looked to the other Sam and said, 'Gimme a second to catch my breath then we can go.' Getting the same declining answer back. He wouldn't force him but pouted all the same. Sam peeled his hands off of the ring and slid down to the ground. Stumbling on the cloth surface and a grin plastered to his face. 'Had fun?' Dean chirped, mimicking flying and tilting his head so Sam could read the body language.

“That was awesome.” Sam said, wiping his brow and leaning on Dean's side. Helping him out of the metal loop. “So... so awesome.”

Dean closed his eyes demurely, wingtips fluttering like a butterfly, and nodded politely like a southern belle, before flopping down where he'd stood with his legs kicked out behind him, toes curled to the sky. Wings fanning out to cool off. Bowman and Rischa were sitting on the t-shirt that had been his nest and when Dean looked over, they both let themselves fall backwards into its soft folds, laughing when Sam went to go join his adoptive family. How many times would they get the chance to jump around in such a huge soft nest? 'Little punks stole my bed!' Dean said, utterly affronted and snickered at the muffled laughter.

Dean aimed his attention to the others who all but ignored the goofing around. Cas was glad Dean had some fun with the younger ones. 'What's up?' He chirped and Cas made sure there were no small people in the way before he scooted closer to Dean. Everyone stopped talking for those few moments, staring upwards at the giant who shook the ground and put them all into shadow for that short time. Cas didn't seem to notice, putting all his attention on not moving the coat nearly everyone had claimed as a picnic blanket or rumpus room. It's gonna need a good washing to get out the grass stains and tiny footprints. The scientist side of him looked at all of the evidence of the tiny people but shrugged internally. There was no point saving evidence if it could put them in danger of being discovered. He'd wash it the second they're back home.

Now sitting next to Dean again, Cas stroked his spine, using his index and middle finger to massage the wing shoulders and upper back. Dean groaned at the ministrations and his brother hid a blush, knowing full well the relationship they'd had established. Cas informed Dean that they were once again discussing the differences in their civilizations and he'd found it very fascinating, the sprites too got some good ideas for irrigating crops if they wished and harnessing waterwheels for the streams natural power. Sam had tried to describe other innovations they could use and the sprites were trying to explain their own methods of handling problems. Mainly using magic that was gifted from their spirit. That opened up a can of worms where the Sam's were talking about how it is or isn't like their ideas of spirits and elementals. Finally, Scar had to put an end to the talk or they'd be there forever. Cerul conceded defeat, if left to it, he could talk to the new humans for days. But, their Knight's still in hiding probably want to get back home at some point.

Oscar spoke up, “I'm still trying to wrap my head around an entire village of people our size out here.”

Cerul and Scar looked at each other, considering but deciding against it for the moment.

“We would invite you all in, but I'm afraid our citizens might be a bit overwhelmed with so many new people.” Cerul said diplomatically. “Perhaps if you come again, we could show you around.”

Oscar waved his hands in front of himself. “That's ok! I'm good... this is already, uhmmm. Not to be rude! But this is more people then I see in... well, _ever_. I'll be fine here. Or home. Home's better.” He mumbled, wringing his hands on his simple clothes. Reminding him of something they'd talked about earlier. “Oh! Uh, Sam?” He looked up at the human who leaned in closer to hear the timid voice clearer. Oscar shrank back a little before finding his courage again to address such a huge giant. “The armor? We need to uh, Bowman said...” He stammered trying to find the best way of saying, hand over the silver. Without being bossy about it.

Thankfully Sam got the basic idea and pulled out the silver plates and tiny bent sheets along with the sword and knife. Oscar still had a sliver of one knife that he held in a very loose grip so they wouldn't think he was threatening them with the tiny shard. Sam placed it in front of Oscar who then handed over to Cerul. “These are a thank you. From us for helping out our friend. I feel responsible for this because I was the one that intruded into their room first. I hope the metal helps.” He was able to say without stuttering or shaking too much. Hoping that with their expertise, they could form them into _proper_ swords and knives. He would have handed it to Scar directly but he was quite imposing. Cerul felt Oscar's fears and casually handed it over to his friend. Grinning appreciatively at Oscar for the generous gift.

“These are amazing.” Scar said, holding them up to the light. “It would have taken years to smelt this much metal from rock.” Handling the crude sword. It was far heavier then what he was used to, and he knew it could be remelted into a better shape. Putting it to good use. Probably making even three smaller thinner swords from this one piece of metal. “We could make at least two dozen very fine blades from all of this metal.” Looking up to Oscar with a wide grin. “Thank you Sir Knight.” Bowing down to Oscar who went wide eyed and red cheeked at all the attention.

“No..n-no problem. G-glad to help!” He stuttered out and fingered at the buttons and straps. “Could you use these too?” He slipped off his button armor and got some impressed sounds from the others, shedding them eagerly now that he knew that these people could use them more then him. Buttons were actually easier to find since people were always loosing them in the rooms. Overstuffed bagged luggage popping the buttons, or from old worn shirts. Oddly enough, they were never in short supply. “They could be melted into other things... I find many uses for them just like they are.”

Sam had met sprites before in his own world, dealing with a Lich and zombie wolves, so he knew all about Wellwood and it's inhabitants. He didn't mention his previous visit because they were already tense about strangers and might get the wrong idea. That he had been some kind of spy. So he kept it to himself, and knew that since they were so isolated out here, that they hadn't been exposed to too many human inventions. Only what Jacob had shown them. That visit happened in these two worlds, he wondered briefly if Jacob was always destined to meet Bowman and himself, and if the colossal Jacob from the Impala visit would even be able to see Bowman in his forest. A spike of fear at the idea that that was Bowman's forest the giant was stomping though.

Sam shook out the thought. It might not have been... he hoped. Coming back to the conversation since that Cerul guy was giving him some serious stares. Right. Empath. Can sense he's worried about something so he goes right back to explaining what these round disks are with holes in them. Handing over one of the buttons Oscar had shed while his mind was worlds away. Sam informed, “These are called buttons, humans use them to close their clothes.” Pointing up at Sam's flannel over shirt that hung open. “Well, usually. I know some people back home that use them as wheels to help move things. Sturdier and smoother then ones we made ourselves out of wood.”

At seeing how much the sprites oohed and awwed at Oscar's small amount of silver and hearing how much the metal would help with defensive weapons, he wanted to assist as well. They _healed his brother_ for crying out loud _._ Brought him back from near death! He owes them _everything_. Sam used a discrete finger to get the head sprite's attention. Cerul flew up and landed on Sam's shoulder, and that would never be normal for either of them, to help keep this chat somewhat private while Castiel talked to Scar about what chemicals can be found in nature and what they can be used for. Sam whispered out of range of the ones still on the ground. “I have some change in my pocket I'd like to give you too, but I don't want to steal Oscar's thunder.”

“You can harness _thunder_?” Cerul stepped back and gaped at that bold proclamation.

Sam gave a surprised snort. “Figure of speech.” And dug around his pocket, waiting for the ones on the ground to all look away before opening up his hand and showing off the handful of nickles, quarters and pennies. “The silver is better, can be used against were's of all kinds and other monsters. These are just regular coins. Sam can tell you what each ones made of, I hope they help.” And being careful not to make the change clink against each other too much, he put the handful of coins at the base of the tree he was sitting against, winking at Cerul who was at a loss for words before composing himself and gave a deep respectful bow.

“Wellwood is grateful to you.”

“I'd totally give more if I had it. I don't think Cas has any metal to speak of.” He didn't mention the ring of keys to the Impala. They needed those. Even if the car's door led to a land of giants at the moment... Eventually, they'll be able to drive baby again.

“That's more then enough. We would have helped anyway. Sam is an honorable Knight, as are you.”

Sam rolled his eyes at that and Cerul gave a stern look. “You doubt your own self worth.” He stated. Sighing. What is it with _Sam's_ (plural). Looking down at the others from his shoulder perch. “You are all honorable, brave warriors. You deserve good things.” He said and flew back down before Sam could protest the statement.

The sun was setting and everyone had a long trek home. So Sam stood up to his impressive six foot four inch height and popped his back against the tree he'd leaned against. He hid a grin at the murmurs all around them from the circle of Knight's that would surely split up to make sure that these guests made it safely back to the gate. Sam and Bowman debated if they wanted to say their goodbyes here or at the gate. They had traveled far that day but what's one more trip? How often do they get visitors here? Besides, they never did get around to reading that sign on the other side or inspecting their section for weak spots like they were supposed to. So Knight Sam prepared his glider, aiming towards the gate again. Sam offered to be a drop off platform once again and got the city boys back into his shirt pocket. Cas threw on his trench coat instead of having to carry it. Having both humans standing made Cerul and Scar feel slightly intimidated when they remained standing on the ground so they took to the air and hovered around the human's heads.

Dean dismissed the offer for his mate to carry him back, stretching out his wings and his fully healed legs. Completely ready for round two. 'Sammy.' He chirped upwards, 'Gonna show little Sammy how it's done.' Was all the warning anyone got when the Drauglin took off on a run, flying in a wide loop around the clearing and Bowman took off after, laughing at finally having some worthy competition. Now that Dean didn't have to worry about passengers, he was able to flip upside down and around as well. The dragon was much larger then the sprites, and the wingspan stretched far wider, but he was no match for Bowman's speed or accuracy. Teaching the dragon a few tricks while Sam got to his glider in a hurry, waving for the human to get him up into the air before he was left behind. Human Sam bent down and lifted up the Knight as high as he could and got twin shocked expressions from the Lords at the swiftness of it all, and trust that the Knight had in his human counterpart.

“Go Sam!” Sam shouted and with his large thumbs on the sturdiest parts of the glider, he shot Sam forward to give him that needed boost of speed. The glider hovered and wobbled at the unexpected launch but Bowman was right there a second later to hoist his older brother back up into the right air-stream. Dean was flapping hard to get underneath him to glide at the same pace, forming a mirror image like Sam was going over a lake.

Scar and Cerul looked on in amusement. Scar spoke up to the ones within hearing range, “May the Spirit smile on your journey.”

Castiel bowed his head respectfully and said, “And you as well.” Because he had no idea what was acceptable for a parting phrase but that seemed alright as the two Lords turned and left, taking with them an impressive amount of knights who appeared out of the woods and all flew in silent rank. Cas's eyes boggled at the discipline and number of them. Grateful it never came to a fight because they obviously had the advantage. He pat Sam's shoulder who turned as well but they were all gone. Every green soldier dissipated entirely into the woods. “Let's go home.”

“Right.” Sam agreed.

Rischa giggled and played tag with her brothers and Dean, as Sam and Cas started walking, watching and enjoying Dean having fun with people closer to his size and showing him the ropes on how to fly. After they were tuckered out and panting from races and agility tests, Sam landed the glider and noticed that they were already nearly at the fence. Sam lifted up his shorter self, glider and all and carried him along while Bowman landed on the shoulder. Castiel bent over to pick up Dean and carried him in his arms as they headed home. Dean was panting but grinning sidefan ear to sidefan ear. Happy to be healthy and to head back home.

They reached the gate and had to make their goodbyes quick so Sam, Bowman and Rischa could make it home before it was too dark to see. It would be too dangerous to try flying at night, attracting owls and night predators. Thankfully, resting on the humans gave them their strength back for the trip home. And they could tell that they weren't truly alone when Sam spotted a few of his fellow Knights still in hiding. The sun was lower then expected so he'll have to come back later to do his inspection, if it hadn't already been done by the other Knights.

Sam was carefully launched back into the air now that he was rested, and looped around in the glider, clearly sad to see Dean go, even if it wasn't _his_ Dean. At least they got to spend some time with one version. He hoped to see his brother again. He waved them goodbye as he angled the glider back to Wellwood. Bowman gave the giant Sam one last teasing tug of his long hair before heading back as well.

“Don't be strangers!” He called back but they all knew it likely wouldn't happen. It couldn't be helped. None of them would see each other again once they got the alternate reality portal thing sorted out. This time spent was fun while it lasted.

Sam stepped towards the fence and before he even got there, felt the air shifting around him, getting cooler out. Two steps for him were all it took to pass through the invisible portal, and run right into the short fence that belonged to the playground, opening it up and leaving the fenced in area of the dog park, turning just in time to watch Castiel and Dean pass through a few seconds later, holding the short gate open for them. Sam closed it firmly and looked back into the lightly wooded area. Kicking himself for not showing Sam Vellum tracks that whole time. Shaking his head in disbelief. Well, he could just try again with some trees that did _not have_ any kind of gate or door or pathway leading to them. Avoiding the alternate universe where they are all some kind of animals or something.

Castiel heard some children playing at the park close-by and realized that it was still daylight out, a few hours had passed in 2017. Concurrent to the time spent in that other world. He wondered if it was the same for the Wellwood residents after they'd left. If that world had reset back to the moment before Sam and he intruded into it. If that was the case, those sprites wouldn't even know they'd been there at all. Forgetting now that they're gone. It was a sobering and sad thought. He wasn't about to go back to see if the idea was right or wrong. It might just lead them to some other world, or have negative consequences. It wasn't worth the dangerous risk. Even though Castiel was still buzzing with all new questions, he kept them mostly to himself, holding Dean closer to his belly, covering with the coat, to keep the chill off of him.

Sam led the way back to the motel, tired and hungry. Sure that Cas and Dean were the same. They'd need a good meal in them before they tried any more alternate universe hopping. After all, the day's not over yet, they still need to find the Knights Inn.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy long chapter Batman!  
> That is a very good question though, do the alternate realities reset back to zero after they leave? what do you think happens?
> 
> and! a terrible photomanip by yours truly! Just awful! I love it! lol


	11. And I Take What I Find, I Don't Want No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is freaking the fuck out.
> 
> A visit to a diner where pigs are poked, has the small crew seeing things that must be a trick of the eyes.

Chapter Eleven:

And I Take What I Find, I Don't Want No More

 

 

To say Dean was freaking the fuck out was an understatement. He was loosing his mind from worry. Oz had left with silver plates all over himself, gone to rescue Sam from a damned dragon, and he hadn't heard anything for an hour. He'd made the hole much larger but it didn't get far due to the conjoining walls of the other hotel rooms. He would need a skill saw to cut the thick wooden pillars and the best he had in the Impala was a machete, shovel and a few ax's. Nothing would escape attention for more then one pound against the supports, and he did not need to be dragged off by the cops for destroying a hotel room. To keep the attention off of the room, he'd gone and paid up for the next few days as well to give him time.

He'd propped himself up against the corner, trying to see down the passageways with all of his flashlights aimed inside. There was a slight bend in the walls, preventing him from getting a good look at the room that should not exist. The vent Sam had been talking about did in fact exist, and it does shoot warm air into the mystery room from nowhere at all. Dean could just barely reach that metal with the tips of his fingers. The edges of the metal vent felt tingly to the touch. Like a very mild electric current if he was concentrating hard on the sensation. Dean supposed this is what the edge of worlds feels like so he kept himself from messing with it too much. No point getting Sam back if Sam's big protective brother dies of some kind of space radiation, leaving him alone here at Knights Inn till the day he dies. It wouldn't even be the hotel that Sam had grown up in, the one his family was still at. Dean wiped his eyes and let his head thump the wall behind him.

He had been distraught for so long now. Convinced that the damned dragon not only ate Sam, but got Oz as well. He just sent that little kid to his death. Give Dean monsters and he can face head on, and he would tackle them with all he's got. This? He can't even get _over there_ to fight. Left to sit here. Alone. Miserable. Without any idea how to fix this, or even know what the hell _happened_. He was just waiting for the moment when that other universe disappears, and with it any hope of ever seeing Sam or Oscar again.

He sobbed again for a minute. Thought he'd run out of tears. Guess not yet. Dean risked leaving his post to grab a few more tiny bottles of liquor from the minibar to re-hydrate before plunking his ass right back down next to the hole in the wall. It was about 3 feet tall and 2 foot wide along his own side that he had punched and kicked in already, with about six inches of busted drywall along the other side of the corner. When he'd tried to open it wider, it was like he his a brick wall a hundred feet thick. It looked like plaster, it might as well have been Adamantium.

He was staring numbly at his feet when he heard a tinny tapping sound coming from the hole. It was soft at first and he wasn't sure if his booze addled mind was just making it up or not. Then it banged a little louder and he heard a scraping sound come from within. Like something small but solid was being scooted along the metal.

“Sam?! Oz?!” Dean flipped around, knees pressed to the wall and his face scrunched against the inside of the next wall, trying like crazy to see who or what was coming. A few more light bangs and scrapes and something was coming into view. Sliding along the vent. Dean knew that his people couldn't possibly move something like that on their own, but just the fact it was coming from that damned room made him riveted to the spot and hopeful. Whatever it was was flat, rectangular and being push pulled along by a long un-bent and reshaped wire hanger.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered as he saw it being scooted along then pause two feet out of his furthest reach. Then it wiggled a bit more and stopped altogether. He stared at the very thin, flat black slab sitting there, and then hit his head jumping at the sound of tinny music and loud rattles coming from the thing that trembled on the metal vent's floor. It lit up at the same time and illuminated the space around it. A phone. It was a phone that was ringing out a tune he wasn't familiar with but he wasn't about to question it for too long before he was scrambling away from the hole, looking for something he could use to pull the phone the rest of the way closer to him before it stopped ring-

It stopped. Dean cursed, dashing back to the hole and staring at the phone. Willing it to start again. His eyes glanced back to his own room and saw one of his rifles and he got up to grab it and returned with it just as the phone started ringing again. He flipped the rifle upside down and used the sight nub at the end of the barrel like a hook and thankfully it was long enough to reach it. He nudged and pulled it carefully along until he was able to grab it up in his fist. Looking it over for a second, seeing the string taped to the bottom. He saw two circles at the bottom of the all encompassing screen and figured 'green means go' so he touched it. A voice came out and Dean held the contraption up at the edges since this phone was nearly all screen that was touch sensitive and he accidentally hit something that made it go to speaker. At least he didn't accidentally hang up.

“Hello?” Dean asked tentatively.

“This Dean?” A familiar yet more distinguished gruff voice asked, and Dean nearly fell over backwards from where he was hunched over.

“Bobby?”

“Yeah, it's me. So I guess this isn't some trick.” Bobby sighed and continued. “It's really 2006 there where you are?”

“Yeah.” Dean chuckled, so weirded out by this whole confirmation. “And you're from the future. 2017.” He stated and got a grunt of acknowledgment back. Dean's hands trembled as he cradled the strange ass phone. This next question was vitally important to him. Sure talking to someone live in another world was neat an all, but, it didn't matter right now. He sucked in a breath to ask -

“Sam's fine.” Bobby beat him to the punch.

“He's with you?” Dean let out the whoosh of air and held the phone closer.

There was a moment of hesitation. Dean could hear it clear as day through the connection. “Not exactly.”

Dean's mind stopped for a second. Processing this. “What does that mean? 'Not exactly'?” Dean asked, his worry spiking. “What did you do to him? To Oscar?”

“Didn't do nuthin', boy. Calm your jets.” Bobby admonished. “They're tiny fragile people, what do you think we'd do? They're harmless. Don't worry.”

The happiness that he felt hearing they're ok was washed away by a wave of anger that swept over Dean. Wanting to correct Bobby about Sam's capabilities. He counted to five in his head. Don't fight future Bobby. “Where are they?”

“They're with my Sam. They're safe. That little fella, Oscar? He came over here after my Sam had left with your Sam, they went lookin' for you, but I take it they didn't find you yet. Our friend Castiel was taking Oscar and our little Dean over to the Sams to see what's up and they vanished into some woods. No bones about it. Just walked right past a gate and disappeared. I don't think the thresholds by themselves are dangerous. That's the only reason I'm not flipping my shit.” Bobby stated and it actually ended up calming Dean down to hear Bobby was taking this in stride. The old hunter continued, “I would have gone too but then there'd be no one here but Rufus and Balth left to figure out what's what. Now, I am getting all the clues together and I think that every danged door we go through, leads to another world.” Bobby said and waited for a response. At the continued silence he added. “It like that for you too? Every door is Russian roulette?”

“No. I tried to get to your room but it was just a normal empty room for this hotel, the Knight's Inn. Colorado.” Dean explained. “I haven't been to any universe but, well, talking to yours right now.” Dean admitted. Strange is now the new normal. His worry started to escalate for his bother and their small friend who are apparently totally fine with taking a jump to the left in these time warps.

“I'm sure you got loads of questions, so I'll throw ya a bone and answer what I can. Bear in mind that I haven't been to yours or any others, this is all conjecture on my part.” Bobby said and there was only a moments silence before Dean exploded with queries. Bobby had the patience of a saint for dealing with the barrage. Secretly, he had been missing hearing Dean's normal human voice for these long months, even if it wasn't his own Dean and sounding higher pitched from his younger body. If this Dean detected the wistful undertones in Bobby's voice while speaking with him, Dean did not mention it.

They talked for a very long time. Long enough for the future phone Dean was using to start making low battery beeps. “Bobby? The phone is dying on me. What did you want me to do?”

“Get your own bit of string and tape it to the phone so we can pass it back and forth. I'm assuming you don't have the right charger for this model back in your day. Cells didn't go to standard jacks for a few years.” The last bit mumbled as Bobby tried to remember the random history of phone models throughout the years.

“Bobby. This phone's straight out of some sci-fi movie shown on MST3K. There's like _only_ two danged buttons and a port for charging and one for headphones. Everything else is overkill or all kinds of Greek to me.” Dean shrugged, now wondering if Bobby could see the gesture with this thing. If he had the time, and there were no emergencies going on, he would have liked to check out the 'pissed off birds' game that was loaded in, an icon on the screen with several others when he hit the home button. Scared to touch it anymore then necessary. Dean did as instructed with the thread leftover from making Oz's armor. He was still unwilling to give up this tie to the other world. He said haltingly, “Ok, uh, I'll wait a couple of hours then give two tugs on the string, give two back to let me know to keep pulling or let's say, four tugs to leave it alone.”

“Sounds good. If something happens in the meantime, I'll wrangle up another cell. We are kinda in the middle of something over here, so cell phone usage is extremely limited.”

Dean understood. From the sounds of it, from the story Bobby had told and partially confirmed from his dragon self earlier, they were in far deeper shit then Dean had _ever_ been in. Being tracked down by a cell phone was well within possibilities. At least he and his pint sized brother didn't have to hide from a specialized supernatural branch of military, as well as evil scientists and some demon of a man who thinks torture is a good method of animal training. Hoping Sam and he never meet people like that.

“Sending it now. Uh, bye Bobby. It's been great talking to ya. I'll be right here waiting for news.”

An annoyed grunt came after that, “Get some food, Son. I can hear yer stomach yowling from here. Trust your brothers.”

Dean hated to admit it, but he did trust Sam. All of them. A human Sam wouldn't be any different then his pint size Sam. He had to have more faith. “Thanks. I will.” Dean said and hung up. Bringing it back to the vent and laying it down as far in as he could, it was pulled back a minute later and Dean made sure the string on his side went smoothly on over. Easing it along so it would not snag on the jagged edges of the weird boarder between his world and the next.

Now that the call was done, he had to sit and stare at that string. It was a literal tie to _another fucking universe_. Playing phone tag through space and time. It was ingenious of Bobby to think of it. Glad that apparently, cell service in the future is better then what he has because it was able to send and receive signals down that vent and through walls. Sure that some phone company would want to study the hell out of this anomaly but for the sake of his sanity, decided to leave it be.

Dean sat there for another ten minutes staring at the unmoving string before getting up to order some take out, as well as pull the laptop closer to the hole in the wall. Not wanting to go more then ten feet away from the string and the sole tie to his brother and little Oz. While getting his corner set up, he got an idea and looking up basic Morse code so if worse comes to worse, they could use the strings to send messages back and forth if the phones weren't an option anymore. Once he learned how to say, 'hello' in Morse, he gently lifted the string and tugged at it, sending that five letter message and got one back, that was thankfully slower then usual, so Dean could follow along. 'Idjit'. Dean laughed for a good five minutes. The stress easing a bit.

 

Sam and Cas brought everyone back across the field towards the motel again. All the while on the lookout for the normal baddies or suspicious people. So far so good. They didn't need anymore stress today. Sam took point, and used his key-card to unlock his room and saw Bobby sitting at the table, at the computer.

“Took you boys long enough.” Bobby grouched but had a gleam in his eye. Relieved to see them back safe and sound.

“Yeah, uh, got a little sidetracked talking to little Wood Sprites.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck.

Castiel came forward and set Dean down onto the table next to the laptop and Dean stood up proud and strong for Bobby's approval. He got it with raised eyebrows and the old hunter took off his cap.

“Well I'll be a squirrel in a skirt.” Bobby breathed, reaching a hand forward and Dean sat still for the large fingers to graze down his neck. “How?”

'Friends in leafy places.' Dean chirped, Cas translated and gave a truncated version of events to Bobby.

Sam reached up to his pocket and held it open for his passengers who got onto the other offered hand. Oscar was timid as ever with so many enormous people around. All of them were practically strangers to him still, so he hung close to his friend. Grateful that everyone more or less let him be. There was no real place to hide up on the table so he opted for looking at everything that wasn't the three humans around the table he stood on. Avoiding eye contact. Willing himself to no longer hear the table groaning under the weight of the old man hunching over it as he got so close to the dragon. Surprised Dean was taking the looming so well. Even shrunken, Dean was so much bigger then he and Sam, and he's still only slightly larger then just one of the human's fists. The trust involved, earned over time. Oscar thought that if he had to stay here, he might build up some trust like that as well with these people. But, of course, hoped he wouldn't stay that long. He missed his quiet home in the safe walls. Where there were no monsters, other worlds, or birds that fly close enough to feel the wings strength. He longed for home, the dark, close, peace. At the moment however, it was bright, wide open, and humans were not even a foot away from him. Surrounding them from nearly all sides. And Sam had no problem talking to these gigantic humans. The other Sam was walking to the corner, shaking the floor and table with his heavy steps. This human was the biggest of them all. Taller then Dean back home, and that was saying something.

Sam had gone to their bags and pulled out and broke apart a pack of plain flavored beef jerky for Dean who devoured it with greedy gulps, barely chewing. Sam then pulled over a piece of paper and poured out a pile trail mix for the small people. Sam polished off the rest of the bag after Sam and Oscar stuffed theirs full of the special M&M's. The shorter Sam commenting on how his Dean thought that pretzels didn't belong in them, and wanted to bring some more 'atrocities' back to tease his big brother.

Castiel went to his own room quietly to grab a granola bar or two from the backpack, all the while trying not to wake his best friend Balth or Rufus. Even if Balthazar had slept longer then anyone there. He returned and tucked into it, watching the others from his spot between the beds. Dean had told him he sometimes doesn't think about personal space, and he was learning what is an acceptable distance.

“While we're here...” Sam started, shifting his satchel around to access his hook and line again. Letting the hook swing back and forth in a easy sway. “Oscar and I could go back to our room and check up on Dean. Make sure he's not tearing the building apart looking for us.”

Castiel was a little tense but then acquiesced to the suggestion. They were not their captives. Even if he only wanted them to stick around long enough to get more information, not about their borrower physiology, but about their thoughts and feelings, what they like to do for fun. Getting to know them as people instead of interesting beings. Castiel hated how he'd presented himself so far, but knew that the time to bond had run out. Making peace with that fact.

Bobby said nothing but still kept an eye on the small people. His thoughts did not show on his face. “Your Dean's doing alright. I sent Balthazar's cell phone down the vent to him using a stretched out hanger and some string. Dean and I had a good chat and he knows what I knew. Feel free to leave if you want. Don't think we're kickin' ya out, though.” Bobby quickly added, folding his hands on his lap, away from the table to give them space. “You boys can fill him in on what happened while you were gone.” He said and pointed to the string and cell that was charging in one of the electrical outlets nearby.

“So Sam, Oscar, did you two want help getting down?” Sam asked, pulling one of the table's large chairs away from the table. “I could drop you off at the vent.”

“Nah.” Sam waved a hand up at him. “I feel like stretching my legs. You did most of the literal legwork today.” Sam stretched out his arms and shoulders, twisting his back to work out the kinks. Oscar looked excited to be going back with Sam. No one could blame him, but it was a little depressing to think that they did such a crap job of making him feel safe. Like he couldn't wait to escape their evil clutches.

Sam walked to the edge of the table and Oscar was shortly behind.

Dean too wandered closer, peering over the table's edge and whistling at the sheer drop, backing away from it before reminding himself that just an hour ago, he had flown much higher then this. But now, he was looking at it from the smaller people's point of view. This was _really high_ for people 4 inches tall. But, Sam wanted to go, and his nose told him that Oz was freaking _thrilled_ at the thought of going home. Dean's eyes were shining and he nodded a few times.

Dean held out a wing thumb towards the small Sam first. Oscar probably wouldn't want a handshake that involved large sharp claws. The wing thumb, though long and clawed, was closer to their size hand-wise. He could shake with his big hands, but, they were the size of the borrower's torso's splayed out. Claws about as long as their fingers. That would just negate the friendliness of the handshake if he squashed those tiny hands into a ball in his own powerful ones. Previously, he would use his wing thumbs instead of hands when dealing with his human family and friends when he was his rightful size of 30+ feet tall. He had gotten very good at controlling his double jointed wing thumbs with precise dexterity, once he was able to tell his brain that the wings are basically just another left and right hand that just happened to look and act like huge wings. Like it was an added bonus to having extra limbs. Dean knew he was currently fixating on his fingers because he didn't want to face the fact that the tiny people wanted to leave him right away. Get back to the present.

'It's been fun.' Dean chirped then sniffled. He waited, they stood there. He wiggled the wing thumb at Sam who finally understood what Dean's doing once Castiel translated his words.

“I'm not leaving for good!” Sam chuckled, slapping the thumb away with a grin. “Oscar might be staying home once we get there, this isn't his fight. But I'm coming back. Old Sam over here had promised to share his Hunting wisdom with me and I intend to get it. My brother would want to meet him in person too.” Sam said and lodged the hook into the corner of the table, stepping on it to make sure it's anchored. “I'll be back in a jiffy.”

“I'm _not old_.” Sam huffed quietly, folding his arms, going ignored.

Dean frowned and paced a little. The way he'd left things with the other Dean... he couldn't just stay here. He had more then a few people to apologize to. 'I'll come too.' Dean stated and Sam translated.

“What?” Sam asked, very nearly dropping from the edge, hands clutched tight on the line.

'I can't leave things like I did with your brother.' Dean clarified. 'I accused him of treating you like a pet. And I know that was way out of line. I need to apologize.' He said and flexed his wings. 'Now that I can walk on my own, I gotta be able to stand on my own two err, _four_ feet. Gotta take responsibility.' Dean said and before anyone could say another word, he spread his wings and glided down to the floor, turning in place to locate the vent again from down there. Folding up the wings and looking up at the small people still on the table. 'Well? Come on. We're already 11 years late!'

Sam rolled his eyes and with practiced ease, slid down the line, landing just a few seconds later. Looking up, he watched Oscar come down afterwards. More cautious about his handholds. He knew how to go fast, but it wasn't necessary. The humans in the room already knew he was there and hadn't tried to snatch him up in a fist so he pushed the notion that he's safe around them to the forefront of his thoughts. Each hand under hand, and slide of his crossed feet, made him that much closer to home. His speed picked up, not from fear of being caught, but of eagerness to get back.

Oscar put the sight of everyone's long legs that were stretching out from the table downwards, out of his mind. Knowing that they're all watching him, he kept his eyes cast downwards at Sam below, holding the line steady for him. Once he was on the ground again, Sam pat him on the shoulder and reached up to flick the line, dislodging the hook and catching it with ease. The humans all sounded impressed and Sam blushed at the silent admiration. Rolling up the line around his palm and elbow as he turned towards Dean. The three of them walked away from the table, all the way across the vast floor and made it to the vent. Bobby remained sitting the whole time and Sam sat down in the table's chair next to him. Castiel took a seat on the bed closest to the vent, watching them and giving a small wave when Oscar turned to look back.

Oscar waved up at Castiel and the others before slipping into the comfortable darkness. Sighing out all of the anxiety that had built up since the night before. Finally going home. His friend is alive and safe, and so is the dragon. Oscar was glad it all worked out for the best and he practically vibrated in place as he watched Sam get into the vent next, followed by Dean who took up the most room in the vent, but not all of it. If he wanted to, he could block the whole thing but that would be an awkward pose for his wings. So Dean pulled himself in tighter and followed the two down the way. Watching the white thread disappear down the dark tunnels. Just as they approached the hazy boarder of the vent heading to the Knight's Inn, a rat appeared out of _nowhere_ dead  ahead of them.

It blinked red eyes at them and hissed. Hunching up his back, fur bristling, and spitting furiously. There was no time to think about the fact that it was from the uncut half of the vent that still exists in 2017 when all of their lives were on the line. Dean hissed right back, but with both of the borrowers in the way, he couldn't charge forward like he wanted. The rat saw this and advanced. Teeth chattering. Claws scraping the metal in ear splitting screeches.

Sam's knife was out from the start, held up defensively. Oscar was stunned and motionless until Sam reached forward and with one fast move, pulled Oscar closer towards himself as he lunged forward to take Oscar's place, slashing at the rat's nose with his sharp silver blade and ended up pissing it off more then hurting it.

Dean growled and stalked closer, his long head and neck reached up and over Sam, hissing profanities the whole time. Dean kept on walking closer, right over top of Oscar who was now half sprawled on the ground. Dean gently pushed Oscar behind himself and next went Sam with one move of his right hand, shoving Sam to the side and launching himself towards the rat that was even bigger then he was. Claws and fangs slashing at each other. Dean shredded the rat's ear with his right hand before it could dodge. Dean hissed his flammable spray at the rat and paused for just a second. Going through all the possibilities if he ignited it. If it survived the blast, the flaming rat would run down the walls and light the whole damned place on fire. That pause to decide was a blessing because his spray isn't just flammable, its also toxic to people and apparently rats because it threw itself away from them. Squealing with rage and pain. The rat pawed at its face trying to get the liquid off of him, coughing at the fumes.

Dean turned to his side as best he could in the cramped space. 'Go! Go back!' He urged, pushing at Sam's back with his forehead, mindful of the horns at the back of his head. 'Turn around and run!' Dean felt teeth on his tail but one flick and they were gone, it hurt but didn't break the skin. It would be just his luck to be healed of all wounds only to be taken out by a damned rat! The stupidity of that scenario made Dean fight back harder. 'I did not travel through worlds just to let some punk ass _mother fucking rat_ try and take a _bite out of me_!' Dean roared and leaped forwards, slashing the rat with his hands and feet, flipping it above him so he could have access to its soft belly with his 20 claws. 'Fuck you furball!!' He raged and the rat backed off for a moment. 'You're not gonna make a meal out of me or any of us!'

Dean got to his feet, throwing dust at the rat to piss it off into leaving. Dirt and small debris getting into the rats wounds.

“Dean!” Sam shouted and got his attention. Apparently he'd been shouting for attention for awhile but Dean was too lost in the moment. “This way!” Sam yelled and darted down a side opening he'd pried open with his knife. The vent was thankfully poorly constructed, so he was able to make an opening large enough. Dean wasted no more time fighting. Now trying to squeeze through the small opening, hearing the rat rage on behind him. It ran into walls, clawing at its face. Dean almost felt bad for spraying it. Almost. He made it through and turned just long enough to push the metal somewhat back into place. He didn't look behind him, just followed the scent and sound of the two people ahead of him. Amazed that their eyesight was so good in here. They ran into a wall and felt around. Dean arrived a second later and rammed his horned head into the soft spot Sam was working his fingers at. Ramming at it again and again. Growling and putting all he had into it. Finally it broke outwards and he switched effortlessly from using his head as a battering ram, turning to face the two again. His nose gave a gentle prod to get Oscar and Sam out of the hole first to safety.

The sounds of conversations were muffled but still loud in the space the found themselves in. A long very dark space in the shape of a square with several supports and a short ceiling. They knew they would be relatively safe from being heard, because their entrance was quieter then the room they burst into. Sam held his knife at the ready for whatever was already in the room. Oscar was pulling at the opening Dean made, helping the dragon get through. Once Dean fell down onto his side in the dim light he panted hard. A few scratches, but nothing lethal. He was mostly dizzy from using his head to break through the quarter inch thick plaster wall. Oscar found the bits of the plaster wall and shoved them back into place. All three listening to the silence back inside the wall. The rat retreated.

“I think...” Sam said, taking in their surroundings. The smells that seemed to soak into them. Like a hundred take out places. “We're in a diner.”

Dean had finally calmed down from the fight enough to scent the air and was surprised he didn't detect it before. Oz was plastered to the wall, wide eyed and scared once he heard the dozen or so people all speaking and eating. Dean stretched a wing out towards him to lightly pat at his chest. 'It's alright, Oz.' Dean murmured at him, winking. 'We got this.' He faced outward again and gathered in the sights. They were underneath a bench seat apparently. The wall they busted through indicated it was the diner's outer wall, going by the shadows and lights across from them on the other side. Even though they couldn't understand a single thing he said, Dean couldn't help but comment, 'I wasn't awake when we arrived at our motel, I don't know if this is part of my motel or not.'

Sam seemed to have gotten a little of that going by Dean's body language and tone mostly, speaking his observations as well. “It's pretty busy.” He whispered, now very aware that there were people all around the three of them, including one that sat directly overhead. Since they were so low to the ground in such a loud place, they hadn't been heard yet. They all wanted to keep it that way. They couldn't just turn around and go right back through the hole just yet. The rat might still be there, or had drawn its friends to the commotion. It was known to happen before. One rat taken out and it's thrashing draws another. Sam and his adoptive father Walt, had taken out a few in their time. Hearing stories from the other families. Taking on a rat solo was damn near suicidal, so to have Dean as his backup was greatly appreciated. Oscar too, because it was him that found the alternate exit they could take to escape.

Sam crept away from the set of boots nearby, along the wall to peer up at their owner from past the bottom of the seat. Trying to gauge where they are from the conversations around them. If they were still in Colorado at the Knight's Inn, and this is just a part of the hotel that Oscar hadn't been to in awhile. It was possible. Oscar said he usually sticks to the rooms around his home mostly.

Suddenly, they all heard Dean say in a loud boisterous tone far overhead, “Hey! Tuesday! Pig an a poke!”

All of them went wide eyed and leaned out from the bottom of the seat to see the other set of legs and boots. Sam recognized those knee splayed legs immediately and started walking out of hiding, intent on tugging on Dean's pant leg to let him know that he's there. Dean and Oscar followed right after when they heard another voice thunder out overhead, catching them off guard because they assumed Dean was with someone else. Not...

“Dean. I'm serious.” Sam's voice said overhead.

“Aww crap.” Sam muttered too quiet for the humans overhead to hear. “It's not Dean. Well, not _our_ Dean.” Turning to walk back underneath the bench seat to hide. They listened in to their doubles. Since both were humans, it was less likely that they'd take to seeing tiny people with the grace that they'd had so far. All three of them were at risk of being caught and hurt by these Hunters.

“Dean,” The human Sam said again, irritated. “You're not listening. I'm telling you we've done this before.”

“Done what?” Dean asked, the three underneath the table watched Dean's feet hook at the ankles.

“This!” Sam insisted. “I keep reliving the same day over and over again and... and I can't.”

“What's the matter?” Dean sounded like he was sobering up to the importance of the conversation.

“Every day. You die.”

That got the three to lean out from the underside of Sam's seat, looking up and seeing the distraught look in those hazel eyes as they turned downwards, but not enough to see them on the floor.

“And I can't stop it.” Sam's voice going watery.

'I die?' Dean chirped as quietly as he could. But it wasn't quiet enough. One of the patrons at the diner's bar across from the brother's table spun around in his seat. A middle aged man in a suit that had been eating waffles, in mid pour of some maple syrup. He suddenly turned and stared _directly_ at them. Eyebrows raising up sharply, his right hand lifted slowly and his fingers snapped.

In that instant, everything froze except for the man, the human Sam and Dean, and the three on the floor. “What have we here?”

Sam and Dean at the table turn to him. Startled at the pulse that went though the place. Sam fearfully looked at Dean, half expecting his brother to suddenly die yet again. Dean too was taking what Sam was talking about even more seriously, hand slowly reaching for his weapon behind his back. The man in the suit gets up from his seat, as casual as can be, and crouches down at their table, intent on getting something underneath it as both brothers squirm away from the intruding man. He emerges seconds later, having picked up two small writhing things that look like people, and a growling creature. Leaning back as far as they can from the discovery that was made under their table. Dashing glances down there to see if there were any more monsters or people they could have been stepping on this whole time.

Sam was stunned that the suited guy kept on ignoring he and Dean in favor of doing God knows what. The guy lifted up both hands that held his captives. “This isn't my doing... Who sent you?” then plunked the three of them onto the table top. Releasing them at the same moment in a heap and moved his head closer to get a better look at them without his hands in the way. They tried to untangle themselves and stand back up after being dumped out like that. The dragon recovered first and hissed at the dude, wings flaring out before curving around both of the smaller men that were only just getting to a stand. Sam didn't even know what to call this. A kidnapping? Standoff? What the hell?

Sam finally jolted at what the man said and is currently doing. “This isn't your doing?” Sam quoted incredulously. This monster is something powerful enough to control time. He instantly puts pieces together, and braces his hands against the table and the back of his bench to push himself up and towards the man responsible for this horrible time loop, but the guy pushed him back with just two fingers to Sam's chest. Pinning him to his seat. Sam can't move. It was like he was glued to his seat. Dean starts to rise next after seeing what he did to his little brother but the man just turned to sit on Dean's bench next to him, scooting Dean into the wall then he too is frozen to the spot. He and Sam can still move their heads but the rest of their bodies are useless to them. All they can do is watch the tiny people and apparently a winged lizard stare at the man that's responsible.

The guy is fascinated with the ones still standing free on the table. Able to move but nowhere to go. They'd be caught again just as fast or faster since this thing in front of them is stronger then anything they've seen before. His handling of them was anything but gentle. Oscar is surprised he didn't break a bone in that grab or the fall moments later. The guy had a childlike awe in his eyes at seeing them. At least he didn't seem like he wanted them dead. But, the thought of keeping them captive was clearly a possibility. 

Dean curled his wings around Oscar more then Sam, protecting them. Sam was a Hunter, no doubt about it as he stood his ground and held up the knife. Ready for a fight. Dean angled his wing fingers more fully around Oscar, and behind Sam's back to make sure nothing came at them from behind. The monster would literally have to go through Dean first to get to them. Oscar clutched desperately onto the wing thumb in front of him. An anchor for him. He had no weapon since they were just going from one room to the other. A straight shot there. No one was expecting a rat to trash that simple trip.

Dean snarled at the man that is staring slack jawed and interested at them. A small grin forming on his lips. It would only take a quick notion to go through the monster's head. Going from fascination to desire. Wanting to own them like toys or pets. Dean growled low and loud at him. 

'Don't even fucking think about it you sack -'

The guys right hand quickly lifts up, curls in on itself and the large fingers snap.

“ - of _shit_. Let us go.” Dean says in a rough voice. Blinks a few times. That was not a growl... that was _English_. “I'm... speaking...” Dean looked down at himself, half expecting to see his human body again. Drauglin's can not speak English. He's tried hundreds of times. It never worked. They _can't._

“Speaking very succinctly and eloquently.” The man smirks in a self satisfied way and laces his fingers together. “Well. That's better. Now, what happened?” he looked from one small man to the other, landing on Dean when the others stayed quiet.

Dean gaped at him. “Screw you! Who are you? _What_ are you?” Dean demands. 

The human Dean wants to join in demanding answers, but can't. His voice was snapped away just as the tiny monster on the table got his. Dean wondered if it was transferred over because he'll be damned if lizard dude doesn't sound _exactly_ like him. Of course, the voice is a little lower and rougher, but that's to be expected coming from a thing that looks like this poor scaly bastard. If he could get answers, he'd want them from the finger snapping jackass first. Not from the lizard right now, surprisingly enough. It wasn't the lizard that stopped time. Sam is too busy trying to figure out how this ties in with his brother dying every day. If his mind just snapped and this is the result. 

The suited man looks thoughtful for a moment. Eye squinting and before the dragon can react, he reaches forward and places two meaty fingers to Dean's tiny forehead. Taking up all of Dean's long head between his horns to the end of his nose. He's frozen still for the instant the fingers touch his head. Memories are flying around his head faster then he can think. He feels Dane staggering sideways in their forest, howling at the sky inside of him, but he can't talk to his other half right now. Forced to watch his life's story flash by like camera film being pulled at 100 miles per hour. Then. It stops. Dean's left dazed and falls to his butt, nearly on top of Oscar who tumbles into Dean's side when the wings drop down abruptly. 

“Holy backstory, Batman!” The guy exclaims. Before the others can react, two fingers reach for the tiny people next, one finger on each head and they too are still for those few seconds. frozen in place. The ends of the fingers eclipsing their heads and both Sam and Dean watch on in a mix of confusion and anger from their seats. Seeing these small people as just that, small _people_. Acting like normal people would when confronted and manhandled like this by some powerful jackass with the bad kind of magic fingers. These little guys are vulnerable and being taken advantage of right in front of them, and they can do nothing to stop it. Soon it's over and both of the small men fall to their hands and knees. Dry coughing towards the ground, and very dizzy. The lizard looks like it wants to do something to help, but is sure that if he moves, he'll just end up falling on them. And no one wants that. The brothers seethe in their seats at this injustice. They can't even cuss this guy out. Reduced to bearing their teeth at him and mouthing the curse words. 

The guy leans back in his seat. Frowning deeply at the three on the table like he's figuring out their judgment. “Ok, closing this can of worms right now.” He announced to the table at large. Both hands reach forward and curl around Oscar and Sam first, making them tumble together before they're pinned down against the wide palm. The other hand spreads wide over Dean and his wings start to lift but are forced down and around his body as the hand effortlessly holds him tight. Squeezing the breath out of him. His clawed hands and feet kick about the open air and his head is still too dizzy to find skin he could bite down on. They aren't held in those hands for long before they're all pulled closer to the man's sides, elbows planting onto the table to get up and out of the bench seat again. 

Standing up straight, he starts putting all of them into the suit jacket's pockets. Sam and Oscar in one, Dean into the other. Once there, they can't find their way out again. Like the pockets sealed the instant they were clear of the opening. 

They hear and feel the strange frightening man reach forward to the humans who are grunting and struggling against their invisible bindings. Both go limp, table jumping from someone's knee running into a table leg. They can only guess that the guy put his fingers to their heads too and the reason becomes apparent after the man turns back around, sits on the round stool at the bar and they hear him cut another bite of food and chewing loudly on the waffles. A loud snap of fingers later and it was like someone had hit play on a paused movie. The sounds and activities around them pick right up where they left off. 

The human Sam is speaking as if nothing weird had happened. Picking right up where he left off. “I can't watch you die again. Dean. I can't.” His voice is heavy with sadness and it makes them listen closer. 

“Ok.” Dean is saying with all the gravity that a conversation like this deserves. Upset that Sam is going through this, basically alone. Knowing that his little brother is suffering, watching the only family he has left, die again and again. “Sam. We'll figure it out.”

“Yeah.” Sam doesn't sound convinced. Swallowing thickly.

The waitress comes to the table and gets their order. All the while the people in the pockets are trying to figure out what they can do to stop this. The giant monster that has them trapped is making this all happen. Some sick game it's playing with their lives. Dean calls the waitress back and changes his order to sausage and they listen in as the brothers chat some more about theories as to what's going on. Then the food comes and they listen in horror at the sound of Dean choking to death on a bite of sausage. Sam's cries for help and begging Dean to cough it up, to breath. A crash of something at the table and Sam's soft plea, “No...”

Then the world flip flops around them. They feel like they're falling but also like they are standing still. Silence again outside of the pockets and the man shifts in his seat, turning around.

Gabriel watches the brothers disappear back to the start. Back to the motel they were staying at and finding a bit of humor again when that terrible song, 'Heat of the moment' starts up once again. Hoping that this next time, Sam will get the message he's been trying to drill into that floppy haired head of his. In the meantime, everyone else at the diner fades back to their own starting places. Left alone for half an hour before the cook shows up to start the day. Gabriel slowly pulls the small men back out first, setting them onto the counter next to his plate of waffles. Frowning at them in consideration before carefully pulling the small dragon out next so he's not bitten. Gabriel now knows their stories. As strange as they all are, and admits that even he couldn't have come up with something so bizarre. 

“You're not from around here.” He states blandly and says, “I'll do you a solid. You say 'yes' to the big question when it comes up, and I'll put you all back where you need to be? Savvy?”

“What happened to them?! You killed them?” Dean shouts, wings flaring as he's looking behind the man at the empty table where the brothers had sat. 

“No, just Dean. He's alive again, for now. Sam needs to learn an important lesson.”

“You're a demon! Making deals?” Sam shouts next. Pissed he didn't see it before, but, the guy never flashed black eyes, and there's no hint of sulfur in the air.

“Other side of God's toy box, Polly pocket.” Pointing upwards for just a split second. He puts the finger to his lips like it's a big secret. “I'm in witness protection. Don't interfere with the plan. Wait... You're not _just_ not from around here... You are _really_ not from around here.... No angels in your world? I saw Castiel though...” He's squinting at Dean. Hard. Before frowning again at the others. No Castiel in their memories. He'd figured he hadn't seen the other angels in their heads because they simply hadn't met them yet. But, there was no hint whatsoever of his angelic brothers lurking in their shadows. Watching them. Making sure they follow the plan. Perhaps the angels are staying back for now?

“Stay away from my Cas!” Dean snarled. Just because it's in English, didn't get rid of his ability to emphasize his words with vicious snarls and growls.

Gabriel drops his fingers to Dean's head. Dean flinches away, scared for a second that he's going to be mind-melded with again, but the huge fingers pet him in a demeaning way. Doing everything but saying, 'Good doggie'. The fingers dance along the spiked spine as Dean turns around rapidly to snap at the fingers when he feels the other hand join in the teasing. Going at Dean from both sides. Gabriel continues on like Dean's not trying his best to sever an artery. “Wouldn't dream of hurting my lil bro.”

Dean is left alone when the hands retreat to rest at the edge of the counter top. Dean's panting but jolts to what his tormentor said, “Little _bro_... Cas has a brother, he told me about him... said he ran away from home. Gabriel?” Dean asks, stills. “You don't look like him. Cas showed me in our dream.”

“Who's Gabriel?” Sam and Oscar are confused as hell. “You two share dreams?”

Gabriel sighs. Morphs into his real form like water rippling. His hair is similar in style to Sam's but shorter and curlier at the ends. He's now wearing a green jacket, black shirt and dark jeans, and they gasp at the sudden change. Backing up from him in fear. Gabriel thinks that if the worlds are this similar... not exact, but close enough, then these little guys might experience an apocalypse as well. The fastest way to end it all is for them to play their roles as well. Gabriel says imploringly to them. “Say _yes_ to Michael and Lucifer.” He poked Dean's chest and repeats Michael's name, then Sam's with Lucifer's. Both of their faces turn white. Dean had already run into a Michael, and the psychopath wanted to chop Dean up for 'science'. And of course Sam has heard the real name of the devil before. Just the thought of seeing Satan himself and needing to say 'yes' to him? Yes to what? What in hell would he say 'yes' for? And by the look in Dean's eyes, and knowing all about the Michael he knew, Dean's already seen hell and is worried he's going to have to go back. 

All eyes snap up to Gabriel as he continues on as if he didn't just give them the shock of a lifetime. “Not a peep to anyone else about this boys. Don't worry about this world, I got it covered. Just remember. Say YES.” And snaps his fingers.

They find themselves in a different hole then the one under Sam and Dean's table. This one is beneath Gabriel's seat. They can see the bottoms of those semi-polished shoes he was wearing when he was pretending to be the guy in the ugly suit. Dean sticks his head out just far enough to look up and Gabriel went back to looking like, and pretending to be that random looking man again. Eating waffles. He hears the bell tingle at the front door and then, humans Sam and Dean are strolling into the diner, Sam worse off and tense, eyes darting everywhere while Dean saunters up to the same table they had been at and sits down, looking casually up at the menu over Gabriel's head. Perusing titles. 

'Hey! Tuesday! Pig an a poke!” Dean says happily and Sam looks tense. 

Dean is about to call out to the human brothers but is pulled back inside the hole by Sam tugging at his neck. He turns and finally notices blinking neon lights all around them inside the wall. Unmistakable big arrows all pointing in one direction inside the walls. No human would ever put lights inside walls like this so they knew without a shadow of doubt that it was that giant monster Gabriel's doing. 

They turn to leave the hole, intent on warning the human brothers what this thing is putting them though, but fall backwards when they feel Gabriel's gigantic foot slam down right outside the hole. Making his opinion and will clear as day. They have no chance in hell in defeating him. They stay at the entrance though, knowing Gabriel knows they are there, but that he wouldn't kill them so long as they don't leave the wall. They wrack their brains for how to save Sam and Dean of this recurring fate but come up short. They can't defeat something they don't understand. They'll be killed for sure. Easy as squashing a mouse or rat underfoot. As that stomp so succinctly demonstrated. They'll need back up and information on what Gabriel is, and especially how to defeat him. They can do nothing for now and watch the neon arrows turn to words, 'Good luck'. With a finger peace sign and thumbs up right after. Even though the monster was killing Dean over and over, he said it was to teach Sam a _lesson_. 

They didn't get the impression that Gabriel _wanted_ to kill Dean. But that it had to be done. Gabriel wasn't enjoying it, it was almost like a task he had to do, a mission. How do you stop something that powerful that's on a mission? They reluctantly turned back to the darkness and follow the new path. Hoping that the end will lead them somewhere better then that groundhog day reenactment. 

“We'll get some answers, some reinforcements, and get back in there.” Dean said and was glad that even if that world was fucked up, that he got his old voice out of it. To be understood again by everyone and not just those that did a communication spell. Having his words altered here and there because sometimes the unique Drauglin's language can't be easily translated into direct English. His brother and Cas are doing their best, but it's good to have his old voice back. “We'll figure it out.”

Sam kicked at a dropped nail that had been in his way. “Sure.” he muttered. Pissed that they were leaving. That they couldn't help. Oscar stayed silent. Keeping an eye and ear out for anymore rats. After a few minutes, he gave Sam a hug as they walked. 

“Don't give up.” Oscar said, making a small fist. Sam wrapped an arm around Oscar back. Silently assuring him that it was going to be ok. 

There was a new light ahead. Ambient light that was not like the neon before so they knew it wasn't part of that world they'd just left. The light was soft, coming out of several round holes in the wall in a curve upwards. Like a bowl. Two more holes were horizontal and above the curved line of holes. All of them were uniform in size more or less. 

They walked closer to the collection and saw that the light coming from the room helped them see the shape more clearly at this new angle. The holes made a shape that wasn't random. They stared at it. 

“Is that a smiley face?” Oscar asked and yeah, it looked like a smiley face. On closer inspection, metal slugs were found embedded into the wood opposite. The face had been made with bullet holes.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually do love Gabriel! But from the guys point of view, he's the dick that's killing Dean every day. They don't know the whole story or see the real Gabriel! I just wanted you guys to know that I do love that trickster!  
> At least he loosened up Dean's forked tongue during that meeting!


	12. It's Just Outside Of Your Front Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock doesn't hold back.
> 
> Chapter warnings! This is kinda dark. Horror story-ish. Psychological trauma.

Chapter Twelve:

It's Just Outside Of Your Front Door

 

 

They creep forward, sure that Dean wouldn't resort to shooting the walls, even if he was stressed waiting for Sam and Oscar's return. Bobby said they had a chat, maybe he did this before they talked? Since Sam took point last time, Dean took the lead this time, tall enough to reach his head up and see out of the closest eye hole. A crowded, cluttered, and mismatched living room was on the other side. Chairs that were next to a fireplace on the opposite wall with a tower of books and things near the squat squarish leather chair on the right side, and a rounded more comfortable fabric chair with a laptop sitting on a small table next to it on the left. On the wall to their right were two tall windows separated with a bit of wall with a bull's skull hanging there in lieu of traditional artwork, and it was wearing headphones. The desk was littered with papers and books and newspaper clippings. Everywhere he looked was clutter, but the floor was, for the most part, clear.

No one seemed to be home at the moment, and there was really no hint who this place belonged to. Dean turned to his left and could just barely see a dining room and kitchen beyond. The scent of tea heavy in the air, as if it was made hourly. On the table were more newspapers littered about and other things he couldn't see clearly. He risked sticking his head out through the hole, just managing to get his eyes and ears out without scraping or hurting himself, and he pushed against the edges of the hole to make it wider, bits of white plaster fell down onto a couch below, but he could see the whole area much better now. It was a functioning clutter-pile. Dean startled when he heard a door open and shut and the sounds of someone stomping into the living area. He tried to jerk his head back out of the hole but his side fan ears were caught on the edges.

Sam heard the human and was right there, trying to stick his fingers out of the hole as well to push/pull the ears back against Dean's head so he could back out of the hole again, but by then the human was in the room and they all stopped moving. Still as statues. Hoping against hope that the human would not take that look upwards at them. Oscar was crouched down at one of the lower holes forming the smile and saw a tall man with near black curled hair in a bathrobe. He was holding a harpoon and casting his gaze about the place with a thoughtful frown on his face. Standing still and listening just as they were.

One of Dean's wings slipped from his grip on the inside of the wall and made a scraping sound before he could curl in his wing thumb. The man's gaze shot right at them. Pausing. Dean's eyes went wide. The wall provided some form of pattern disruption due to the wide printed wallpaper, but sadly, he was not black and white like the pattern. And his brown and tan face was spotted a second after.

“Fuck.” Dean muttered. Twisting and turning his head to pull it back out but stuck fast. Sam yelped when his fingers were pinched and that just made the man even more interested. Putting down the harpoon, he reached for something that was on the messy desk nearby. A hammer. Who the hell keeps a damned _hammer_ on their desk?! Ready to go?

Dean was thrashing now, pushing Sam and Oscar away from himself as best he could without actually seeing them. The man wielded the hammer and approached slowly, critically.

“What kind of rat is this?” He said in a low gravely voice from across the room. Too far to see details. “Hairless...Mange? Strange skin flaps... some sort of disfigurement. Nose is wrong. Not a rat. Nor mammalian at all. Snake perhaps?” Closing in on Dean's head with the hammer held up and aimed at him.

Dean forced himself to push his head forward then fold his ears back and pulled back hard, hitting his cheeks several times but by then, the short spikes that border his cheeks were hurting his chances of escape worse then his side fans. “Fucking fuck!” Dean cussed, feeling nothing but pain from behind his ears as he pushed against the inside of the walls, plaster falling down at the spikes insistent scraping. He was coming loose!

The man's eyes went wider. “It talks.” He whispered in awed intrigue. Hammer wavering in the air.

Dean paused in his thrashing to address the man directly. “This is not some whack-a-mole game! Put the hammer down.” Dean shouted and moved his hands to the lower part of the hole, scratching at it to widen it that way now that the human was staring at him instead of using that hammer. He was nearly free when he saw some movement coming out of the shadows on the floor.

The smaller man came out and looked up at the black haired giant. “Sherlock.” He shouted up, sounding tired and annoyed. “Wanna keep it down? Some of us were sleeping.”

Dean looked down and said, “Oh, come _on_!” He rolled his eyes before returning to freeing his head while glaring at this tall human. This guy's name is apparently _Sherlock_. Dean thought that there was no way in hell that he just ran into the famous detective from those old books. What were the odds that Sherlock just so happened to meet the Winchesters in whatever world this was? He did not seem to realize that he's supposed to be a fictional character. Of course, dragons aren't supposed to exist either, even in his own world they were considered to be a fairy-tale, that is, up until he got himself turned into one. Perhaps that writer dude actually knew a Sherlock? But then, he'd be a hundred years old right? Ok, so Sherlock was a real person, and in this world, he's in the present day, more or less, going by the flat screen TV behind the rounded chair.

Dean's musings were interrupted when another short person came out after the newly woken Dean, punching his shoulder to get his attention. Yup, there's Sam.

Oscar was still looking out of one of the holes but far enough back to not be seen. Sam caught glimpses of the room beyond as he pulled at the plaster, Dean kept still while the small hands worked around his throat. Sam couldn't use the silver knife to cut him out because if he touched Dean then his skin would burn. He had a broken butt end of a matchstick and was using the fairly sharp edge to scrape out chunks of the plaster instead of wearing it down at the edges closest to Dean's neck. The difference between rubbing it away, and chopping it up.

Sherlock turned from the wall and knelt down to the two on the floor. “It would appear we have a new species of rodent snake hybrid animal living in our walls. Would you like to get a closer look? Help me determine why its voice sounds just like yours?” His hand lowered and the brothers looked at each other before shrugging and climbing aboard. Sherlock then held them up high enough and Dean glowered at the lot of them. Like he was an exhibit on show at a gallery. Or, more likely, a mounted head on a wall just like that bull's head over there. If he'd gotten his horns through, it would be closer in appearance.

“Dude, that's not a rat. Some kind of lizard?” Dean said, leaning forward after holding tight to the thumb nearby.

Dean wriggled his head against the hole again. “Dragon. Draaa-goonn. Not lizard. I don't do that tongue thing.” He emphasized and flicked out his forked tongue.

“Obviously not a normal thing one finds inside walls then. Correct?” Sherlock flicked a grin upwards.

Using the thumb, Dean pushed himself back to the middle to look up at the human's face. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Sam helped Dean stay stable on the hand as he leaned forward next, “Where did you come from?” Sam addressed the dragon directly.

“Narnia. Does it matter? Not staying long enough to have tea and cookies.” Dean grouched and felt part of the hole give way, Sam pat his neck to let him know he's safe to pull his head back into the walls. “Taataa!” Dean said and ducked inside, shaking his head like a dog to rid himself of all the itchy plaster dust between his scales. Picking a direction to head down, they went running as fast as they could down the uneven wooden supports. Scrambling to get lower to the ground. Sam and Oscar were right behind him as he cleared the way of spiderwebs. Some of the paths were well worn so it was obvious that those pair of brothers did live inside the walls instead of being that man's pets. Some bit of comfort.

From what little they observed of the interaction, at least they were respectful of each other. Those brother's did not need saving. Dean saw two shapes ahead appear around a corner, both holding up silver knives at the ready. “ _Fuuuck_.” Dean hunched down into attack mode, similar to when he had to go after that rat. His wings flaring in the tight space to keep the others hidden behind him. There was no point letting these brothers know they were there to be captured or fought as well. “Just let me go.” Dean growled.

“You came into _our_ house.” The other Dean pointed out.

“It was a mistake. Leaving now.” Dean said and started to back up when the brothers advanced. He heard Sam and Oscar searching for an alternate way out and pat his tail, letting him know it's close. He growled loudly at the brothers who stopped and held up the knives higher. Dean winced at the threat. His skin was strong, but vulnerable to not only silver, but sharp knives and swords. The trade off for having fireproof skin that's near bludgeon proof with how it disperses a punches energy. Nothing is perfect.

Dean dove his head forward to clack his fangs loudly in front of the two, missing on purpose and glad that they did as he hoped and stumbled back to keep from being bitten. He then spun around and bullied the small hatch that Sam and Oscar found as an escape route. An ancient electrical outlet that had been shoddily covered up to keep rats out. The thin wooden panel was no match for Dean's strength as he rammed his head and chest against it while kicking off of the opposite wall for even more force. It gave out instantly and he found himself not in another world, but the Same damned living room he saw from the holes above. This wasn't a real exit. Sam and Oscar were right on his heels but they too saw that they didn't actually escape. They had just made it easier to be _caught._

Sherlock was there and waiting with a wire waste basket and dropped it over top of the three of them. The ground shook with the deafening slam making them tumble over. Three sets of terrified eyes were looking up at the cage all around them. There was no escaping this. Not even a door or lock to pick. Evidently not all of the trash was removed first because a couple of used nicotine patches and old gum still stuck to the bottom of the trash basket above their heads. Making them feel just that much more humiliated.

Sam and Dean exited the hole soon after and looked up at the upturned waste basket that Sherlock was still holding down with both hands, his weight pushing it into the rug below. Sam took in the sight and implications of it and was trembling slightly. His breath hitched. Dean pat his brother's back and said something just barely loud enough for Dean to hear, “It's ok, Sammy. It's not our cage.”

“ _Dean_.” Sam pointed to the other Sam who was standing in front of Oscar, keeping the smallest borrower from seeing this nightmare. His brother narrowed his gaze and gaped at the other Sam. It wasn't just the dragon in the wall, he was keeping these two hostage.

“Sherlock!” Dean shouted up, running around the waste basket to see him better. “Dude! Let those people out!” Waving his hands above his head. “There's people in there!”

Sherlock turned to the side to see that indeed, there were. “Are you sure they're people? Sam, do you have a twin we don't know about?”

Sam couldn't answer. Trembling like mad, memories flashing before his eyes and a panic attack on the way.

The dragon turned to face his Sam and Oscar. Giving a pained expression before firming it into resolve. He then nose bumped Sam and Oscar, winking at them before he faced the human, stepping closer to see past the numerous wire bars. Dean growled low in his throat, puffed up his wings and angled all of his claws downwards to look more threatening. In a ravenous voice, he called up, “You can't have my food!” Circling around his stunned friends. Snapping at the air around them to sell the idea that he eats people. There was no telling if this was the Same Sherlock that he'd heard about from the books and movies, the one that has no problem beating corpses and is generally callous to the world at large save for his select few friends. It didn't matter, Dean had a responsibility. Make sure Sam and Oscar are safe. If he had to sacrifice himself? So be it. Earlier, the man held up a damned hammer, poised to attack. The detective was no stranger to violence. He never wanted anything bad to happen to these guys.

The ploy almost worked. The other Sam was running towards the basket, grabbing and trying to lift it up by himself. “Let them out! Sherlock!” Sam was frantic. Sherlock lifted his hands away from the bottom of it, and Sam was turning red in the face trying to lift the huge thing. Not even managing to budge it. Dean stepped next to his brother and tried lifting as well while the dragon circled around again, snapping at the air and growling.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed at the display and he settled his hand back onto the bottom. The brothers looked up in shock and dismay. “No.” the human said.

“What?!” Sam let go of the wires and stormed over to Sherlock's looming body. “You heard it! It's going to eat them!”

“No, it isn't. If it were, it would have done it already. Judging by the posturing and fake snaps and growls, it's putting on a show. It wants you to think that it's dangerous. If it were, and these two borrowers were in real fear of their lives, they would not have followed it out of the hole. They would have escaped the second the beast got his head stuck.” Sherlock crouched down further and stared hard at the dragon. Eyes darting all around the body. “What an interesting case.”

Dean stared into the basket where the dragon was still standing, wings up and intimidating as hell, but now that he was really looking, the other Sam and that short guy weren't nearly as scared of the monster as they should be, being so close. Definitely within biting distance. They should have been climbing the walls to get away. Hell, now the more he watches, the more the small guy looks like he'd like nothing better to do then to take refuge _underneath_ the damned thing. Instead of being afraid of the dragon, they were obviously more worried about the fact that they were in a cage, and no one could blame them for _that_.

Sherlock continued with his clinical observations. As he spoke, he flicked open his magnifier that he just so happened to have nearby. Dean knew that it was no coincidence, the detective probably slept with that thing in his boxers. “The dragon is speaking rather fluently in a tone that sounds remarkably like American dialect. _Yours_ to be specific.” He indicated Dean with a pointed look before lifting up the magnifier to the dragon's face as it continuously growled at him. “Green eyes, while not strange in itself, but coupled with the fact that it has freckles and a companion that looks, sounds and probably _is_ your brother, leads me to believe that this is another set of you both. Plus one.” Sherlock quickly pointed at Oscar with his pinky finger. “Did you two have a third brother?”

“No.” Dean said, but everything Sherlock was saying was starting to make sense. “I don't know that little dude.”

“Hmm.” Sherlock wanted to observe the smallest one but he was constantly being blocked from view. Finally when the dragon wrapped his wing around him wholly once it was clear what Sherlock wanted. The human frowned and was itching to lift up the basket and pull them out, study them properly.

“Over my dead body.” Dean hissed at the human, scenting his intentions. The spikes along his neck raised up in a wave as he angled his spine like a cats. Showing off what he has for defenses even if it's not nearly enough against an enemy as large as this.

“It wont come to that.” Sherlock finally addressed Dean directly. “After the time I had spent with these two,” He placed two fingers on the floor close to the brothers, “I've been observing inalienable facts. Sam and Dean will always protect those that cannot protect themselves. They will fight against all odds against evil. Saving people by helping me catch killers.”

What that statement meant to the ones inside the basket was a mystery. Did the human mean that he was going to keep them caged for the good of his dear friends? Or let them go because he believed that since they were a different Sam and Dean, they too would be decent, innocent. Useful? Worth a closer look.

Sherlock abruptly stood up and went across the room to retrieve a large book, the purpose of which made itself clear when he opened it, only needing the hard cover lid as he tilted one side of the basket up just high enough to let the cover in underneath, sliding it closer and closer to them.

Sam caught on faster then Dean as he backed up to the other side where there was still floor. Dean was too large and ended up stumbling onto the cover as it stopped halfway in, and suddenly the basket itself was being pulled onto the cover next. Sam and Oscar pushed with all their might against the encroaching cage and Dean turned too to push with his forelegs, claws digging into the wire mesh but they had no choice but to follow it along. The human was much stronger then them so they didn't have a choice.

Nearby, Dean stood by Sam and comforted his brother, he too was having terrible flashbacks to being caught and trapped in cages. Their trust in Sherlock was the only thing keeping them from attacking the human outright. It didn't erase the past they experienced when they were first cursed as children. Treated like animals, pets. Every time they spoke they went ignored or the humans thought that they were no better then some parrots, repeating things they'd heard. Not really intelligent. Just small frightened animals.

They started the trek home to do some research of their own, see if any of their old journal scraps had anything to do with dragons or Shapeshifters beyond the fact that silver burns Shifters. John Watson had gotten them books on the supernatural to refresh their memories, crossing off what was true and false and rewriting it in their own scraps of paper. There were hundreds of kinds of monsters out there, and since they hadn't hunted at all since being cursed at 10 and 14 years old, they did not remember every little detail off the bat. There might be something that can help them figure this out back at their home behind the bookshelf. Sherlock should be able to handle those guys for now. Sam and Dean wanted to help, but, it was more important they find out _what_ they could be. And if they're dangerous, how to deal with them. They knew their gigantic flatmate could come across as emotionless as a robot or egocentric. Neither would be taken well by his captives, so just before disappearing, Dean shouted up to him, “Behave.” It was something that John would have said, and got a wink back in return. Dean followed Sam back towards the walls to do the research.

The three inside the makeshift cage were being lifted up by Sherlock and brought into the kitchen, before being lowered down to the tabletop. Sherlock pulled out a chair and sat down in front of the wire cage. Watching.

Dean regained his balance after that trip and immediately wrapped Oscar up again in his wing. Blocking the disturbing views all around and giving tactile reassurances. Now that they were closer, Dean could smell a huge assortment of chemicals, dead flesh, and dried blood. Looking around was a mixture of science lab with human remains. A human's severed foot rested on the counter with naught but a hand towel underneath to keep the various juices from spreading. It turned his stomach, and thankfully, neither of his companions had noticed the gory details around them, focusing instead on Sherlock who was leaning forward, fingers peeked and pressed together, eyes trained on them in the most unnerving way.

Dean knew all about 'scientists'. This detective had to know a fair bit of different fields of science to do his job. Since he called this kidnapping a 'case', something that needed to be studied and solved, Dean knew that he wasn't going to make it out of this in once piece. Everyone literally wanted a piece of him... And they got it. _Literally._ What's one more slice and dice session? He forced himself to take deep breaths, calming his heart rate. He unfurled his wing just enough to see Oz inside. He was holding his hands to his ears, eyes shut tight and head tucked between his knees. Sam was inspecting his surroundings, already planning their escape once the human's attention was elsewhere. He'd never make it to the wall. It didn't stop him from trying.

Dean let out a long breath before saying, “You have me. Do whatever you want with me. Let them go home. You don't need them.”

Sherlock didn't seem surprised in the least to hear that. “Very well, I'll take you. Of course, since I know for a fact that there cannot be two Sam's existing in one moment in time, due to the paradox theory, I will have to examine your partners as well to get down to the bottom of this. I cannot allow monsters to go roaming about, causing mischief. Needs must, I will find out your secrets.” Sherlock said coldly and let that sink in for just a moment. He stood from the table and brought over a heavy book on bird migrations to sit on top of the basket to weigh it down.

Once Sherlock was out of the room, Dean immediately started pushing at the curved wire walls, hoping that he could budge it to the edge of the table so the others could climb down using Sam's hook and line. Any further and the book and basket could fall, injuring or killing them all. Sam did not know that Dean was never intending on escaping with them, as he helped shove at the wall. Oscar came to help push soon after, once he got his head back on straight. Now that the human was gone, he found some courage. If they didn't try now, they'd be killed. Tears sprung from his eyes but he bit his lower lip, putting all of that fear into this last desperate act to escape.

Sherlock was gathering and sorting the various tools he needed. The sounds of him muttering to himself in his bedroom were loud enough to track his movements. He came back to the table with a pile of things, nearly all of them unidentifiable, but vaguely surgical looking. Most were inside a rectangular plastic container that was short for the human, but probably shoulder height for Sam. He dumped it on a clear spot and then left to retrieve even more things. The detectives expression went from analytical to a scary kind of glee. He didn't even notice the basket had shifted an inch.

“ _Push_.” Dean whispered and lifted up onto his hind legs to plant his hands onto the side but lower then the center of gravity, if he pushed from the top, the book could topple over, making a noise loud enough to attract Sherlock's attention. They strained under the massive weight. Even with Dean's strength, he was still too small to do much. He lowered himself back down. “Stand in the middle, I'm gonna get some speed and ram it.” He whispered and Sam pulled Oz right next to him dead center.

Dean ran around the border but the confines were too small to get much speed going, most of his energy on trying not to run into the sides as he scrambled around in circles. Figuring he can't go any faster, he saw the edge of the table coming up and pushed hard. The basket jumped forward three inches. Dean was knocked to his side and gaped. They were still a foot away from the closest edge. He lumbered upright and gently pushed Sam and Oz aside before changing his mind. “Get on me. We need weight.”

Sam didn't question it, he knew Oscar would take too long to climb up by himself, so he put his hands under Oscar's armpits and lifted the shorter man up, Dean's wings did the rest to get little Oscar onto his back. Sam jumped up next and held Oscar close while the wings lifted on either side of them to pin them in place. One man on each side of his spine spikes, holding onto them, using the spikes to stay put. Dean's body turned and he crouched into the furthest corner and lunged forward to the other side, ramming it with his chest and head. It jumped another inch. Dean backed up and did it again. The basket tipped off of the book's cover underneath, and the book on top pitched forward. All three looking up at it, waiting for a few seconds to see if it would go all the way, but it was too heavy and stayed on top. Dean rammed the wall again, and again. The basket went smoother now that it was on a slight decline and Dean used the lip of the cover underneath his feet for more traction. Two more lunges and they'd have a hole big enough!

Dean was getting very sore but he didn't care. This had to be done. He lifted up onto his hind legs again at the far side and pushed down and over, putting every ounce of weight into it and it skid those last inches. Leaving a gap big enough. The book on top teetered but didn't fall and Dean sighed with relief.

Dean sat down and wiggled his back and the two of them slid down, dismounting backwards. Grinning widely but when they came to the gap, they saw it was only an inch big. Dean couldn't fit though that.

Sam pat Oscar's shoulder, “Come on, almost there.” He said and was about to get back onto Dean's back when Dean stepped away, opening his wing downwards to shove him towards the gap.

“No. You and Oz, get the hell out of here. There's no time to argue. Go get help.”

Sam had a pained look on his face but knew Dean was right. The detective wouldn't be gone forever so with tears pricking his eyes he gave Dean's long head a quick hug and pulled Oscar along. Oscar hugged Dean's forearm tightly. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” Oscar's voice was muffled where it was tucked.

“Don't worry about it.” Dean said, lifting his arm a little so Oz looked up at him. “I got a plan.” He winked and Oz nodded, tears falling freely.

Sam lodged his hook into place and swung down an inch. “Oscar!” Sam urged quietly and his friend came closer. “We both go at once.” Dean placed his hand onto the hook to make sure it could support the weight of both men. “Now!” Sam said and they both loosened their grip of Sam's line, sliding down fast to the floor.

The ground shook as the human re-entered the room, arms full when he saw two of his test subjects sliding down a line. Momentarily impressed with the skill and speed and the fact that they were able to shift the basket far enough to accomplish this task. He knew he had size and speed on his side so he set his bundle onto the floor and reached a hand forward, underneath the two figures sliding down.

Sam cried out in pain as he forced his hands to tighten around the sliding line, keeping him from descending into that huge waiting hand below. They were too late. “Climb!” He told Oscar but they weren't fast enough, Oscar felt the line below move and it was because Sam was being plucked from it, the human's other hand was splayed out, racing towards him, lifting up fast with the line between two of the fingers so he wouldn't miss. Oscar found himself quickly enveloped in that hand and he screamed when it started to tighten around him. Forcing him into a ball. The line was useless since the human gripped it tight where it entered and exited the fist.

Sam punched against the palm and fingers. The heat and slight sweat that surrounded him told him that Sherlock was very excited about his catch. He could use his knife to stab or slice any place surrounding him, but, without seeing outside of the finger cave, he had no idea if the effect would influence Oscar or not. If both the humans hands would open abruptly over open air then they'll fall to their deaths. He would risk his own life, but Oscar didn't deserve that fate. He'd have to wait for the opportune moment to attack. The fingers shifted him around with ease, forcing him into a ball shape or else risk a broken bone. Each finger was stronger then his whole body, he had to comply with its demands. He knew first hand the dangers that can come from fighting back but he couldn't help it. Kicking at the smallest finger repeatedly.

“Let them go! You son of a bitch!” Dean raged, punching the cage and making the book on top teeter on edge. Sherlock stood up from his crouch and using an elbow, nudged everything effortlessly back onto the table. Without the added help, Dean was screwed. He couldn't move the waste basket. Instead, he turned to where the wire mesh attached itself together, digging through with his claws and tugging at the seam.

Sherlock held one whole person in each hand. The feel of the squirming bodies was strange to him. When he'd held Sam and Dean that first time, it was only to transport them so he had minimal contact with them for fear of injuring them. The next few times, it was of their own free will to stand or sit on his hands. However, these two he's holding now can not possibly exist. Or at least, this Sam couldn't. The other man, Oscar? He was an unknown. Both would need sufficient study to determine what to do next. He imagined what this could look like to his flatmates were they here, watching. Likely they would be distraught and unsure of his intentions. Sherlock frowned deeply. Their feelings and thoughts could be manipulated by these intruders. Taking on their appearance to ensure that they wouldn't be harmed by them.

He made sure that his captives knew in advance what he was going to do. It helped ease his mind about the tasks ahead. Otherwise, they'd surely see him as a monster. “I will not harm any of you, so long as you do not harm me or others.” He started off, lifting a finger in each fist to see the heads of the creatures better. “I simply need to know what you are, where you came from, and your intentions here. I will be able to distinguish observable and testable facts for the prior, but through which, I should be able to discern the later. Lastly, depending on what I find, what to do with you lot.”

He would not wait for his flatmates, to force them to watch this. It would only be upsetting. For his Sam most of all. He nodded to himself and looked around for a suitable holding container for one of the men. Changing that description in his mind to 'subject' since it has yet to be proven that these beings are human men. He would be careful, but, give nothing away of his thoughts. One theory is that they are some form of Shapeshifter, some creature that Dean had mentioned when they were talking about the monsters of the world. The fact that Shapeshifters can read minds was helpful to know right now. He ignored the continued squirming in his hands as he walked around the kitchen table, looking at his supplies on hand and finding naught but the empty tea kettle. He'd spent enough time with his miniature flatmates to know that if these things are similar, they'd have similar capabilities and limitations. However, to be on the safe side...

He moved the smaller one over to the kettle and uncurled a single finger to grip and pop off the lid from it, looking inside to make sure it was empty and clean before easing the frightened small man inside the top opening and then quickly putting the lid over top in case this kind of creature was able to jump out. Then carried it over the short distance to the table and set it next to the wire basket. The dragon was tearing at the mesh walls.

“You bastard! Let him out!” Dean scraped the walls, making a shrieking sound of claw against metal. Sherlock winced at the sound slightly before leaning down to glower at Dean.

“Stop that. He is unharmed.” He sat at the table, and with his free hand reached to his side and picked up the clear plastic rectangular tray, dumping out the few scalpels and thin pliers from inside to land in a loud metallic clutter nearby. Laying the tray down and putting his still occupied hand inside. Releasing the one appearing to be Sam.

Sam stumbled and flipped around to face upwards when the same fingers that released him pinned him right back down again. His hands and feet were pressed flat against the cold plastic and he turned his head to see a warped view of Dean and a bronze tea kettle next to him. Guessing that's where Oscar was now. He fearfully looked up and saw Sherlock was rummaging around for something and came back with two six inch long flexible fabric tubes of sand. They were thick and heavy as he laid them across Sam's legs first, pinning them down without hurting him. The other tube of sand was curved around Sam's head to pin his arms next. Blocking his view of Dean and the kettle. His fear spiking now that the human had both hands free to do whatever he wanted.

“Don't do this.” Sam said, practically begging. “I am Sam, I'm Sam. I'm human, same as you.” Pulling at his right hand to get it free from the weight. “We didn't hurt anybody!”

Sherlock brought over a thin pair of tweezers and the sight of them reaching towards Sam's head had him clenching his eyes shut, teeth grinding, waiting for the pain but he heard a light scraping sound and then leather creak, looking up, he saw that Sherlock had gripped his satchel's strap and was lifting it up over his head. Sam pushed the back of his head down to keep it from going anywhere but of course the human's pull was stronger and it left Sam's head bouncing back down. Then the sand weight was lifted from his hand just long enough to pull the satchel fully off of him before it was placed back down. The tweezers came back and started to prod at his jacket, opening one side then the other. Sam's eyes went wide. Was he undressing him?!

Sherlock spotted a knife identical to his own Sam's and using the tweezers, gripped the case of it and eased it out of Sam's belt. Putting it aside next to his satchel. Sam's breath was going very fast, struggling desperately.

“Calm down.” Sherlock said quietly and poked at the sides of his waistband. “Have any other weapons?”

Sam grit his teeth even as tears sprung to his eyes. The tweezers pinched at his jacket some more, testing the thickness of his pockets or to see if he had any pockets that weren't obvious. Moving from one side to the other, all the while, that thoughtful frown on Sherlock's face. The magnifier came out again and Sam saw an extremely detailed view of Sherlock's left eye. The dilation, the black hole widening. Sherlock's breaths passing over his body, making his clothes ripple and hair move. The sounds the human was making without even realizing. Low hum's and the whoosh of air into lungs larger then all of them put together. Absently swallowing excess saliva. It was all too close and loud.

The worst sound was the creaking tweezers as they kept on exploring his body. Tugging at his shirt underneath, moving it this way and that. Then moving down to his pants and the legs, searching for any other hidden objects when they came to his shoes. Sherlock lifted the weight from one leg at a time to inspect the length and feel with his fingers if there was something more there, then replaced the weight on that leg to remove the other and search again. The shoes were examined closely. A cotton swab stick brought over with some kind of chemical liquid on it rubbed all over his shoes and was placed in a Petri dish. A new swab stick and dish for the other shoe.

Sherlock looked pleased with the sample and brought over a swab half soaked with water to Sam's head. Wetting his hair and mussing it up. Twisting it slightly and tugging at his hair as it became tangled with the fibers. Tugging a few strands out. Sam was confused as hell why he'd want to test that. See what kind of shampoo he and Dean use? The water was cold and didn't feel all that great on his head. The cue tip was brought over to a slide and then another clean Petri dish. Half of the things Sherlock had brought over to the table were to examine organic samples.

Even if Sam couldn't see him, he could hear Dean's low growl constant in the background. It was oddly comforting. To know that he's not alone up here, being treated like this with no witnesses. Sherlock was true to his word, he wasn't physically hurt with any of the tests so far. But being splayed out and exposed like this was frightening on its own. The threat that this human _could_ do something unspeakable to him. With ease. Claiming it was for science. He wouldn't even feel guilty if he hurt Sam or Oscar or Dean. Like it was completely justified. He was already splayed out, it would be easy for Sherlock to lift up that scalpel and cut his chest open. See his organs on display and perhaps that's the only way to prove he's really human for the giant. Only when he's making his dying breaths, the man would have his curiosity satisfied. Sam pushed those disturbing thoughts away. They were no help to him.

Sherlock brought over a powerful microscope and put the first slide underneath, eyeing it up and making notes on a notepad nearby. The scratch of pencil on paper was felt in the table. Elements were muttered under the human's breath. The most excitement came from what was found on his shoes. Sherlock turned his head to say, “You've been to a wooded area, a diner, and in at least two other people's hands in the last 24 hours.”

“Been more fantastical places then that, Doctor Strange.” Sam muttered, continuously tugging his right hand from under the weight.

Sherlock frowned at the response and decided the rest of the sample analysis could wait for now. He'd promised Sam and Dean not to ever take their photos and taking pictures of these humanoids would have the same result, since it's hard to distinguish the difference between tiny people like his flatmates, and whatever these things were. In a photo, tiny people are tiny people. He moved on to the measurements. Bringing over a scale and calibrating it to zero. Weighing the bag the first subject had, and its numerous contents individually, marking it all down, then the knife which got a thorough examination all its own, more swabs taken with care to see what all the subject used the knife on. Going so far as to soaking it in a solution to get every single trace of evidence off of the minuscule blade. Then the bag had its belongings returned to it and it was weighed again as if the tally would change in the meantime. Several kinds of rulers were brought out and marked length and width of everything. Cubic volume of the bag and calculating how much it would weigh if it were human sized.

Sam watched it all happen nearly overhead. Grain by grain, he was able to shift the sand inside the weight to lessen it over top of his right wrist, sliding it out and down, freeing it while the human was distracted. He then turned to his side so slowly so as not to raise awareness, and pushed at the weight on his other arm, freeing it. He slowly sat upright, eyes never straying far from Sherlock, who's eyes were pressed hard into the microscope as he tested the knife's metal, surprised to see that it's made of silver, just like his Sam's. That rules out Shapeshifters. Sherlock wondered if there was another kind of body duplicators that were not traditional Shapeshifters when he leaned back to think, fingers pressed together in a peak as he stared off into nowhere. Movement below caught his attention and he saw that his subject was nearly freed.

“If you insist we move on.” He said and removed the weight over the legs and dug his fingers underneath the small body, holding the small subject in his hands. He was carried the short three foot distance to the other side of the table without Sherlock even needing to stand and lowered down to the weight scale. “Stay still.” He ordered and put Sam into the middle of the flat plate.

Sam saw the hands retreat only a centimeter in every direction, still caging him in but not touching the scale. He pushed his hands up at the fingers to give himself more room underneath to escape, but the more he pushed up, the more resistance the scale gave him. Panting, he heard Sherlock sigh in exasperation overhead.

“It's a scale, not a torture device. Stay still or this will take longer.”

Sam shuffled closer to the edge but the fingers closed around him once again. Squeezing him a little. Knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for breath and was dropped back onto the scale again, one of the fingers kept the plate from bouncing anymore from the sudden weight and it stabilized as Sam was struggling to breath again, dizzy and nauseous from the bouncing floor and the tight squeeze. Sherlock flicked a grin and wrote down the result before closing the fingers around Sam. “See? Not so bad.”

“Fuck.... you...” Sam coughed, hair disheveled. His arms were at his sides, no room to move at all. He barely had enough space to suck in a full breath.

Next came a flat plastic square that was about the size of a sheet of paper, but with a grid printed out on it in inches down to millimeters in faint lines. Sherlock loosened up his fingers and let Sam down onto his side, then pushed at his chest to roll him onto his back, and left his finger there to keep him still. Sherlock's planted his other fingers nearby on the plastic sheet to keep himself from accidentally applying too much pressure to the small chest beneath.

“Lay flat out, arms stretched, legs together.” Sherlock said and rolled his eyes as Sam kicked at the palm high above him, what he could reach of it, and push with his hands against the finger holding him down. “I can and will wait all day.” Sherlock said and adjusted in his seat. Turning his eyes to the note paper once again as he waited for the squirming to stop. Writing down his observations with his free hand.

After ten minutes he was done with the notes and looked back to the subject who was trying to scratch through the thick skin. A desperate look in his eyes. He decided to stop waiting for compliance and moved the legs together with his other hand and turned his head this way and that to see all of the exposed parts of the subject's body, then let go of the body to grip the tiny hands in his fingers. He was initially going to pull the hands out as far as they'll go, but decided to trace his fingers along the arms to urge them out instead to keep from breaking any tiny bones. Taking great concentration to keep the subject from twisting or turning in a bad way.

“ _Please.._. _stop._ ” Sam whimpered. Tears flowed freely, his face was red and pinched in fear.

Sherlock stilled his fingers and looked at the face. “Ok.” He whispered, touched by the emotions. He let go completely. Hands retreating back to give the little thing room to breath. Resting on the table near the hand tools.

Sam curled up into a ball, hugging his legs. Sniffling into his arms. He wasn't even trying to escape now. There was no point.

Sherlock fidgeted with his fingers and the tweezers. Eyes darting to his notes and the samples. Clearing his throat and saying aloud, “You appear to be human save for your size. The sample I procured of your hair is the same as a human's. It is not fur or any other substance that is similar in appearance.” He was looking anywhere but the small figure. He looked to the dragon who was still seething with rage and then the teapot who's inhabitant hadn't made a single sound. He wondered if the tiny man was still inside or if he'd managed to crawl out the narrow hole. A look downwards to the floor to confirm that his flatmates were nowhere to be found. Guilt creeping up on him. But, he's doing this _for them_. For their safety. He can't let loose some creatures that he knows nothing about. Only knows that this one is likely human. He had more tests that were not based in the biological and hesitated before doing them on this first subject. If his mind could take much more. Surely someone this small would be used to being handled? Sherlock had to assume so, and that this could be a ploy to let his guard down. Still... he pushed aside his concern for now. He had to know.

“I have a machine here that can detect radiation. Another one that shows images in different waves of light. And this one, is a portable ultrasound that I uh, borrowed, from my brother.” He informed, and held up the machine in question. “I do not have to handle you to do these tests.” He said, hoping that it would be taken better then the previous tests.

Sam didn't look up. The human proved he was going to do whatever the hell he wanted anyway. Everything in him screamed to fight back but he had no more energy. He shrugged his shoulders and heard the human move slightly. Telling him that he'd seen the small gesture.

“I swear, this will not hurt.” Sherlock whispered.

Sam peeked his eyes up, wiping off his nose on his jacket sleeve. “Would you care if it did?” He asked.

Sherlock felt every bit a monster. “Of course.” He insisted. Picking up the machine and waving it over his own arm, then did the same with the other light spectrometer. “No pain. Unobtrusive observations only.”

“Sure.” Sam buried his head again. “Whatever.” His voice watery.

Sherlock stilled before slowly bringing in the Geiger counter and it clicked peacefully over Sam who flinched at every loud clicking sound it made. Sherlock then waved it around himself for the ambient reading, finding a base line. He then aimed it at the table, the dragon, the teakettle and lifted the lid to angle the Geiger inside. Everything was well within normal ranges. He was pleased to see that the small man was still inside, but he was curled up in the corner, crying quietly judging by the hitches in the tiny shoulders. Sherlock left the lid off of it. “It's alright, little fellow.”

The next enhanced spectrometer emitted several beams of light at Sam who kicked his legs out before he was forced to. Sherlock felt between pleased and upset at that. Like he was giving up hope. Expecting to be punished if he didn't comply. Looking back at his actions, he couldn't blame him. Sherlock then took the light scans of the dragon and found it was very interesting. The scales reflected differently. Absorbing the different kinds of lights and hardly showing up at all, almost like a blank spot with some mottled blots on the screen. “Your camouflage works even under UV light and several others. If you were outside, the heat signature would be indistinguishable from your surroundings. Are you cold blooded?”

Dean just growled at him.

“Likely.” Sherlock muttered to himself, and then took the light over to the teakettle and found that Oscar showed up similar but slightly different then Sam in the images. “You were not human originally.” Sherlock said. As he looked inside, the small man shivered in fear. “I don't intend on treating you any less than human.” He informed and backed off again. Taking off his watch and setting it next to Sam. He had a hunch and this was one way to test his new theory without touching them. Observing the second hand of his watch while looking up at a different wall clock. A full minute passed. “Interesting.”

“What?” Sam asked, not expecting to be answered directly.

“Time is moving differently around you. The second hand sped up to skip 3 seconds.” Sherlock leaned forward. “You're moving out of sync with the world.”

Sam shrugged apathetically. “So?”

“So it means that you either went through the corona discharge of a localized black hole, or something else profound and unusual happened to you.”

“Would you believe me if I told you we're from another world? And all we want to do is return?”

Sherlock's eyes widened and he thought about the questions. “Perhaps.” He stated. He'd heard more about the supernatural world through Sam and Dean to know that not everything is black and white. There were gray areas to reality. “Clearly you are all suffering from separation anxiety so I shall return you all to the same holding container.”

The human tilted the teakettle onto its side and Oscar scrambled to stay in it. If he was out there, he was going to be in that human's hands again! Even a dark container like this felt safer then being exposed out there.

“Come on. Don't you want to see your friends?”

Oscar felt his world tipping almost all the way over, the kettle wiggling just a little. He lost his hold of the holes in the spout and tumbled out, landing on his side, he immediately curled up defensively. As expected, huge fingers came towards him and curled around him.

“One quick measurement.” Sherlock said and gently dropped him onto the scale. Oscar didn't move beyond his racing heart and quick breaths. “You're much too light for your frame. You need a more stable diet.”

Sam was watching from the plastic container. He stood on shaky feet, walking to the edge of it which was up to his chin. Hands planted on the rim of it. Anger starting to rise again at seeing how the human was handling his friend. Oscar was brought over to Sam's container and set down. Oscar immediately went to Sam's side and buried his face into his shoulder. Sam stroked his back whispering reassurances into Oscar's ear. Turning his glower up onto Sherlock who had put Oscar with Sam for a few reasons.

Sherlock looked at them both standing there and jotted down a number. Sam realized that it was Oscar's height. Since he knew Sam's it was easy for him to calculate it this way instead of splaying the smaller man out like Sam had been. At least he restrained his handling of his friend to minimal contact. It was far from ok, but it could be worse. “It's ok, Oscar. It'll be over soon.” Sam shushed him, hands stroking his back in comforting waves. Hugging him tightly.

Sherlock took and released a breath, looking towards Dean next.

Dean paced under the intense looks he was getting. His protectiveness over his friends. Trying to think of how far he should go. What if this was just the start of the testing? He'd thought that since Sherlock already had a set of brothers that he was letting roam free, that they'd be treated better then this. Obviously he accepted the brothers, why not _them_?

Sherlock brought over a hand towards Sam and Oscar who both gripped each other tighter. His hand easily closed around the pair, but with far more care this time, gingerly picking them up from the table, bringing them over to the wire basket and lifting it with his other hand. He opened his hand and allowed them to get off on their own inside. Dean had backed up against the far side. If Dean attacked, the hand could close completely and crush both of them to death. Punishment for his disobedience to the unspoken request.

Sherlock put some of his things aside, letting them all breath for a few minutes. He placed another book over top of the cage to keep them there this time. Leaving the kitchen entirely to make a long phone call.

Dean fussed over both of them, sniffing out their feelings and the things Sherlock put onto Sam. “Did he hurt you?” Dean demanded and Sam hugged himself.

“No. It wasn't fun, but, he didn't break any bones or cut me open like I thought he would.” Sam admitted and saw Oscar dance foot to foot before extending his arm again to offer another hug. “Oscar.” Sam said quietly. “He might do it to you too. Just, just listen to his directions. I know it sounds awful, but, he wont hurt you.”

“He's treating us like... like _things_.” Oscar cried. Dean wrapped him up in his wing. Holding him.

“He just wants to understand. This is how he does it.” Sam said, looking off into nowhere. “I've been through worse. He hasn't said anything about selling us, or treating us like animals.”

“Not yet.” Dean muttered, snarling silently in the direction Sherlock left. Making up his mind that his friends can not go though anymore. He wont let it. Sherlock returned, holding his phone out casually, sending out several text messages. Dean cursed internally. That might have been that call to some buyer now. Their time could be running out. Where the hell were the Sam and Dean from this world? What's going on?

The human returned and sat down again. Before the next demand came, Dean gave one of his own. “Take me. Let them go. Do whatever you want to me.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “What exactly should I do with you?”

Dean had no idea. It's not like he wanted to be dissected, but he had to do _something_. Sam snapped out of his depressed thoughts and had turned to face him. Jaw ticking from clenching it so tight with building anger before he punched the dragon hard in his shoulder. The shoulder hardly moved.

“Screw you, Dean!” Sam punched again, venting. “You don't go sacrificing yourself!”

“So he _is_ a Dean.” Sherlock made a silent mental confirmation as he watched the two bicker.

Dean bared his teeth at his friend. “Dude, I'm damaged goods. You got to go back to your brother and take out that monster that's been killing people in those woods! Back in my home? I _am_ the monster. My family is going up against _everybody_! We are fighting against other _Hunters._ In case Sam and Cas failed to mention. The Hunters, basically my co-workers, that see me as a monster. My world would be better off without me in it. You're doing far more good Hunting with Dean then I would with my Sam. I'm not exactly able to walk around in public without people wanting to kill me anyway. So I might as well stay here. Take one for the team.” Dean turned to Sherlock who's eyes were fixated on him. Guess he didn't deduce all _that_ about them _._

“You _jackass_!” Sam punched him again. Distantly aware of a three pronged hook flying up to the table's edge a few feet away. Cat's out of the bag. Might as well lay it all out for the jerk, it's not like they could tell the detective to forget all that and let them discuss this in private. Not when it just got interesting. “Do you have any idea the pain you'd cause your family? What would your Sam do if you never came back? Huh? I know that I would tear every universe apart looking for my Dean. Probably get killed in the process. You _can not_ do that to him. And what about Cas? Dude, he loves you. I know my Dean isn't into dudes, but no one cares about that, no hate or judgment here. FYI.” Sam had to add in case Dean was self conscious about letting that part of himself out. Cursing himself for letting it slip. Dean might not have been out of the closet yet. He paused to give an apologetic look for the slip-up. Continuing on because this was important. “Cas would think he did something wrong, to drive you away. He might blame himself.” Sam said, pleading in his eyes, “Think of your family, Dean. Don't be a selfish jerk!” Sam punched him some more. Frustrated that he'd even consider this form of suicide. There was no way that that human would be as gentle with the dragon as he was with the small humans.

Oscar pushed up against the wing and his eyes were wet. The wing uncurled and allowed Oscar to move around to his front. No words, he just wrapped his arms around the front of Dean's torso. “D-don't give up.” He whispered.

Sam paced, working off some of his frustration before joining in the hug.

Sherlock was silent. Hands had dropped to his lap. It didn't matter that he was careful in his handling. He knew how people act when they're faking it. And how they are when it's real. Studying his fellow humans for his whole life from the outskirts of humanity. He'd expected some form of unnecessary heroics, but slowly realized that there would be no need for self sacrifice if he'd let them go at the start. Feeling every bit the monster he seemed to be to these people. “I just...” He started, getting the attention of everyone there, including his friends who had just lifted themselves up onto the table top.

Sam and Dean had been researching possible origins for these people and the dragon. Research takes time and they trusted their huge flatmate not to do anything rash, but now, looking at all the equipment and seeing it all clearly, they'd been wrong to trust him alone. Dean especially thought that he was past all that. He'd never tried to study him or Sam with any of this junk... was he just waiting for the chance? An opportunity? But the expression on his face, it showed his deep regret and it gave them pause.

Sherlock couldn't stand looking at the disappointment in his flatmate's faces. The way they hesitated in coming any closer. Like they'd be next on the slab. Dean was holding the handle of his knife while it was still in it's sheath. The fact that he was thinking about pulling it out. Sherlock swallowed hard. “I was...” and shook his head. Eyes closed. He knew what he did, what it would come across as to them. Excuses. All he had, were excuses. It didn't seem to matter that he had the best intentions in mind. He should have had Sam and Dean up here instead. They would have been more... humane. “Forgive me.” He said, still facing downwards. His hands reached forward and he effortlessly lifted the books up and away from the top of the waste basket, then lifted that next from overhead.

The three stood there, trembling anew. Waiting for them to get snatched up in a fist, put into smaller containers or diced up as an experiment. Sam let go of Dean and turned to face Sherlock again, fists lifted anew. Oscar had no weapon but he turned as well and spread out his arms to block Dean from the human. Only managing to cover his forelegs to chest. Wild haired head reaching Dean's shoulder height alone. Dean looked down at his short friends and then over to the other Sam and Dean who were walking closer to him. Everyone looking up at the human sitting at the table. Trying to figure out what he's going to do next.

“Forgive me.” Sherlock said again, lifting his head to meet their gaze. He stood up and watched them freeze. He pinched the knife up out of the solution, drying it with a nearby swab and laying it a half foot away from the small group so he didn't crowd them. Bringing the bag over next and then the hook. He didn't coil the line, sure his fingers would be too clumsy for the act. Sam darted forward to grab his knife and hold it up defensively. Sherlock's eyes danced at the tabletop, across the notes and tools he had yet to use. That he was planning on using turned his stomach now that he saw the full scope of the situation he created. Nodding once before leaving the room, heading to his bedroom.

Dean looked down to Sam and Oscar. “I was not expecting that.”

“What just happened?” Sam lowered his knife, finally looking around them and spotting the foot on the counter. Holding his mouth with his free hand. “ _Oh God_.” He turned away from it so Oscar wouldn't be curious to find out why Sam was turning green. The thought of how close they'd gotten to being hurt. Killed. It was not his imagination going wild. They'd gotten mixed reactions in each world previous, and Sam saw that this one had the biggest probability of actual dissection. Going by the set up that was not far enough away from them. Sam turned to Oscar. “You ok?”

“F-fine.” Oscar nodded a few times, still pressed close to Dean's side.

Sam and Dean hesitantly walked closer, a guilty look in their faces. “Sorry about... uh everything.” Sam started, Dean agreed.

“He can be a bit intense at first. Caught Sam and me when we were grabbing cookies from the counter.”

“Biscuits.” Sam corrected, rolling his eyes. “We've been here for how long and you still haven't picked up the lingo?”

“Can it, they look like cookies, taste like cookies.” Dean turned to the others. “What would you call them?”

“Uhh, I don't know.” Oscar mumbled. Feeling like he's put on the spot.

“When in Rome.” Sam said for him. “Biscuits.”

“Figures you'd agree with you.” Dean chuckled lightly. The tense air was far from dissipated but it was more awkward to address it in front of everyone. The longer Sherlock was gone, the better. “Sherlock... he gets uh, protective of the ones he likes. His friends and even family. We lived here for years before he found us, captured us, and he was fully intent on studying and questioning us when John came in and put a stop to it. I guess...” Dean rubbed his neck. “I guess his curiosity never fully went away. John made him promise not to go near us or try and find out more about us if we didn't start the meeting. It took a few weeks and the shoelace incident to get back to normal. Well, a new kind of normal.”

Sam pipped up from next to Dean, “I'm not going to say that what he did was right. Just that, for someone like him, who needs to know the answers, having you guys show up out of the blue tripped every one of his triggers for investigating. If all of you looked like _any_ other small people, he wouldn't have done a thing besides let us know he saw more of our kind.” Sam looked extremely apologetic. “It's bad luck you look like me. Because you are me? From another world you said?”

Sam nodded, still sticking close to Dean and Oscar. He didn't fully trust these two. “Why didn't you stop him?”

Dean took this question. “We didn't know if he was right, or that he'd go that far. We went home to see if anything was messed up. If you were a diversion or had looked though our things to learn all about us. And also if we could find out why you looked like Sammy, why there's a talking dragon. Research takes time and we only had the resources of our memories written down when we had escaped after arriving in England. Writing down our lives and knowledge onto scraps of paper to help us remember where we came from. Even our adoptive family doesn't know we used to be human. Pretending to be one of their kind for so long, we start to believe it and... things fade.”

“We couldn't find any information on small monsters and came back to see what Sherlock had found out. But, when we saw what he'd done...” Sam shook his head, looking down at the tabletop. “I thought he'd just ask questions. Honestly.”

The front door opened and everyone froze until the resident Sam and Dean sighed with relief. “Don't worry, it's just John.” Sam said and when their flatmate entered, Sam actually called him over, “Hey! John. We got any biscuits for our guests?”

“You have guests?” John's voice filtered into the room from where he was taking off his coat. Walking into the room and standing there, the grin fading into a look of confusion.

“Yeah, they just popped in for some food. This is Dean, and this is Sam and this is Oscar.” Sam introduced and the mood had lightened considerably considering the three of them waved in turn. Dean and Sam were pretty good at reading people and felt that this human was trustworthy. He didn't see them and immediately go for a hammer for instance...

“Cheers.” John said back, coming closer to sit in the chair Sherlock had left. “Why... is the waste bin on the table?” He saw the people go still and guessed it's purpose. “Oh that bloody bastard.” A scowl coming across his face, hands planting onto the table to launch himself back up out of the chair to give Sherlock a piece of his mind.

A flap of wings got John's attention back, “Don't bother, I think he knows he fucked up.” Dean said and sat down.

John blinked a few times. “I thought you were a lizard. I didn't notice the wings...” He muttered. “Christ.” He pinched his leg under the table. Not a dream. Turning to face his small flatmates. “Did Sherlock drug the tea again?”

“Nope.” Dean said, folding his arms. “All real. Alternate universe whatever. Anyway. These guys have been through enough, from what I can see, and I think they could use a cookie for their troubles, don't you?”

“Of course.” John said and stood up from the table to go to the cabinets. “Bloody hell.” He spotted the foot and covered it with another hand towel. “Sorry about the mess. It's this, _case_ he's on.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a few different kinds of biscuits, laying them out for their guests perusal. He was glad that they asked for food, normally his flatmates would insist on working in exchange for food, or, scavenging for themselves. Unable to accept handouts. This was a good excuse to feed them without making them feel guilty for taking it. The two new men and what appears to be some kind of scaled thing, looked stressed out and he had enough experience with people suffering with PTSD to see the signs. Not wanting to add to it by asking the tones of questions on his mind. Another day. Not all mysteries are supposed to be solved. Curiosity burned in him though, but he had a better grip on it then most.

Oscar had never had such variety of food in a single day before. Ever. From pretzel M&Ms from 2017, to delicious pastries made by the sprites of Wellwood, to sugared treats from England. This trip had some perks. Sam was kind enough to carry around the spoils of the day for him.

Dean declined the food, still looking wistfully at it, but he was still full from that stick of beef jerky earlier. What he would give to be able to eat these without throwing them up ten minutes later. So instead of eating, he once again, gave these guys their story. It wouldn't be fair to keep it from them since they'd told everyone else with two ears. One good thing about repeating it though, it did help him see that he's not the villain or victim. He's just doing what he can to get by. Sometimes bad shit happens, and now that he's telling them about it, he's able to remember that good stuff happens as well. Sure, there's going to be times when they can't take it anymore, but they've got each other to pull them back up. So long as he is there for them in return.

The food eaten or stored, the story told, it was time to head out. Sherlock made an appearance just as the trio were getting ready to return to the floor. The tall human walked closer, held tight to himself and stood before the table. Eyes either downcast or looking at them with equal parts guilt and hope. His hand came forward, mindful of speed and unfolded to show them what was inside. He explained what it was as he let it slide down his fingers to the tabletop. “Since the brothers arrived, or rather, since we found out about them living here, I'd spent a long time thinking about what they use, day to day.” He nudged it closer. “As it turns out, they are self sufficient in every way. I have however noticed that at some point, your group must have misplaced this item.” It was a meticulously crafted bag with a three pronged hook but smaller then Sam's. The line was made of very fine threads that were woven together to make it easier to grip. He used a closed knuckle on one outstretched hand to nudge it in Oscar's direction and the smallest man stepped back. “I assure you it is alright.” Sherlock seemed so earnest. A peace offering. He had no idea what else he could give to make it up to Sam specifically, hoping this could be useful.

Oscar gulped and stepped forward, lifting up the bag and finding it a perfect size for people like them. The stitching was large, indicating that the human himself had hand sewn it. Oscar peered inside and found an Exacto blade with a thread wrapped handle on it. It was brand new and slightly curved, likely the replacement blade was part of a set from an art store. The handle made out of the thread made it comfortable to grip and hold. Even if his hands were sweaty, this knife wouldn't slip out of his grip. Other items inside were sheaf's of fine tissue paper, cut into squares and formed into a small handmade book. Pencil lead from mechanical pencils rolled around on the bottom. Oscar's eyes were shining when he looked back up at the human.

“I can't... this is too much.” he said, holding it out to tall human.

“It is too small for me to have any use for it.” Sherlock commented with a slight smirk. He worked on the bag in secret, it was going to be one of two gifts for his flatmates. When he'd spoken to Sam and Dean, he learned that their duffle and satchel bags were already gifts, dear possessions that they never planned to part with. He wouldn't force this one on them, make them feel like he'd be upset if they didn't switch bags. This just saved him the trouble of keeping it hidden, as well as redeeming himself a little in their eyes. He truly did not want to keep these people, but his curiosity got the better of him again.

Oscar looked around himself, and saw the the others were fine with him having the new bag. He wiped off his face and smiled, holding it to his chest. “Thanks.” His own bag was back home, and had seen better days. He did not have anyone at the Knights Inn that knew how to tan leather, so his bag was made of cloth and had been repaired several times. This one would last a fair bit longer since it's made with new cloth, not ones discarded and worn too thin. Care worn cloth is best for clothes.

That done, Sherlock waved farewell and stepped far back from the table. Sam and Dean went back to the hook he'd lodged and swung off on down. Dean walked behind his Sam and Oscar, as the little guy tried out his new hook and line. It was far easier to use to climb and halfway down, he urged Sam to try it out for himself as well. Dean flared his wings out, waiting until they were just a few inches from the floor before gliding down. He landed a few feet away and waited for them to catch up. Every few seconds, they'd make a note where Sherlock and John stood. The new entrance they'd made was still uncovered which was good because if they had to unblock it, it would have left them with even more sour thoughts.

Sam and Dean showed them the way along and stopped and stared at a section of inner wall. “Ok, that's different.”

Sam looked up at Dean and said, “That's probably for us.” Starting to recognize the hints indicating other universes in the subtle differences of building material. “If you value your sanity, don't follow us in. Fact, I'd just stay back and block off this way for, I dunno, a week? Month? Till we get this thing sorted out.”

“Whatever you say, Dude.” Dean saluted and stood back next to Sam.

“Good luck.” Sam waved and the others waved back before disappearing before their eyes.

 

“Ok, where are we now?” Dean said, sniffing the air. “Probably the moon or some crap.”

“No... I'm pretty sure the moon doesn't have mice.” Sam said as he kicked a few pellets away from his path.

Oscar's eyes were wide and his breath hitched. Standing still and looking past Sam to something that was scurrying about ahead of them.

Dean grumbled. “Not _another rat_.” And flared his wings again. “Ok, you know the drill.”

“Flower!” Oscar cried out and ran forward into the dark tunnel. Sam ran after with Dean going as fast as he can though the narrow walls. They caught up to the little guy just as a brown mass of fur jumped onto him followed immediately by seven smaller ones. Oscar's giggles and flailing's told them everything they hoped to hear. Oscar knew these mice. They were back in the Knights Inn. “We're just outside my front door!”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I honestly do love watching Sherlock, in all the incarnations. I just wanted to go dark side for a bit. Because Sherlock would want to find out what they were, and to do that needs his own kind of research which is more hands on in this case then reading books.


	13. Well I Get So Lonely, When I Am Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you find an alternate way into an alternate universe?  
> then, how do you find an alternate way into an alternate universe' Impala to avoid an alternate alternate universe?

Chapter Thirteen:

Well I get so lonely, when I am without you

 

 

 

Bobby wiggled the cell phone's string and Dean pounced on it like a cat, tugging twice and getting two back for the go ahead to keep pulling the cell phone along. It rang out before he had time to figure out what number to call on it. Answering it eagerly, “Bobby?”

“No, sorry, this is Sam.”

Dean's eyebrows shot up. It sounded like his brother but, of course, older, voice pitched a little lower and expectant. “Hey, uh, Sam.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck in a similar way he'd seen Sam do countless times. “Man, so weird to hear your voice.”

“Same here.” Sam chuckled. “I've met a few different versions of you these past few universes.”

“Oh yeah?”

Past a chuckle, Sam said, “Your Sam is probably telling you all about it.”

Dean was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your Sam, I'm probably interrupting. I just wanted to make sure they made it alright.”

“What are you talking about? They aren't here.” Worry started to gnaw at his chest. “Who all was coming? They never showed up. _What happened?_ ”

Sam was quiet. “My brother, your Sam and Oscar were coming over there. Like, _seconds_ ago. You don't see them in the walls?”

“No! Sam? What the fuck.... what...” Pure panic started to grip him tight. “Oscar said it was a straight shot from your world to here. How could they get lost?”

“I don't know.” Sam said, anxiety also hitting him hard. “Shit... something must have happened.”

“What?”

“I don't know, another opening? Something. They're probably in some other universe.”

“By themselves?!” Dean shouted into the phone. “Shit, Sam! What the f...” Dean rubbed at his temples. He nearly pulled the phone's string completely out from the wall when he stood up to pace. Freezing at the slight tug he got from Sam's end to keep it in place. Reminding him that he's literally not as alone as he feels right now, there's another person at the other end of that string that's also worried sick for their own small vulnerable brother. Not to mention Oz, the smallest borrower he'd ever met. This couldn't get much worse. But he had to deal. Keep a level head. “Ok, uh, we can try something to find out what happened, right? Tell me how to record video on this thing and slowly pull it back, we will see what the tunnel looks like, see what happened. I'm gonna attach some flashlights to give the camera some light to see.”

Sam didn't hesitate to instruct the younger Dean how to use the cell's features. Half of the words meant nothing to Dean but he got the gist of it. Writing down the instructions in case they had to do it again. He wasted no time at all constructing a holder for the phone to keep it upright with all of his markers, pens, pencils, and string. Turning it into a rough box that wont be knocked over easily. It took a good 10 minutes to construct and test drive on his floor before he pushed it into the hole, calling Sam back briefly to let him know to start pulling in exactly one minute. The phone was turned on, video rolling, with the flashlights weighing down the bottom, keeping it upright and lighting the way. It looked like a car to Dean and he prayed it would catch something on film. He was to pull it back in 15 minutes after Sam and Bobby had a chance to download and review the video on a larger computer screen. Then turn the phone the other way to record the path towards Dean's room. Different angles will reveal different clues.

Barely five minutes later and he felt the string tug so he pulled it back eagerly. Answering almost before it started to ring.

“There was another opening. I'm sure it wasn't there before. None of them mentioned it and it looks recent.” Sam started right in. “There's traces of fresh blood on the edges and scratch marks all around. Bobby's looking over the footage again and we think they ran into trouble. Probably a mouse or rat.”

“Fuck.” Dean hung his head, trying to keep it together. “What else did you see?”

“No bodies at all, whatever happened, they got out. Probably through that opening. They are either waiting for the rat to move on, or got stuck somewhere else. God only knows where.” Sam sighed, in the distance something banged and broke. Sam or someone was muttering something about Vellum bullets and alternate ways in, when Bobby's voice came next.

“Dean.” Bobby greeted gruffly. “Your brother and my boy are competent Hunters. They'll all come back.”

Dean was about to use some colorful language, but that wouldn't help anybody. He heard Sam in the distance and Bobby told him what they were doing. “Dean? Sit tight there. Don't go anywhere at all. Sam's already out the door. He's going to try opening every door we have on our side to find them, he may run into you. He wont be able to find anyone if you're outside. Unless your current residence is outside, like with the Wood sprites. Best bet is stay there, wait for the boys to come back, or Sam to show up.”

“You want me to sit on my ass _some more_?!” Dean shouted. He wanted to kick something. “It's all I have been doing!”

“If they get to your room and you're not there, they may move on, try and find you in some other universe. Think that you somehow managed to jump to the next one like we do. We need you to be ready to treat their injuries if they'd gotten hurt. There was blood on that entrance, Dean.” Bobby said sternly but there was also a definite undercurrent of concern there too.

That gutted Dean. He nearly lost balance as he abruptly stopped his verbal rampage that had been bubbling up. If they'd been attacked, they would need him to patch them up. He nodded a bunch of times at the phone before saying in a thick croaking voice. “Yeah. Fuck... yeah, I'll be ready.” And made several purposeful strides to the first aid kit and started dumping it out, sorting the supplies. He quickly realized he'd need two hands for this and didn't want to waste the battery on the phone just staying on the line. “I'll call when I see them.”

Bobby gave a grin, hearing Dean go into planning mode, which was far better then tear-the-world-apart-because- my-brother-is-in-danger, mode. He'd seen the latter more often lately but it had been amplified since his Drauglin Dean had better equipment to burn down every obstacle without even touching it.

Sam put his gun filled with silver rounds behind his belt, the ram's blood coated coral bullets made especially for Vellum monsters into his back pocket, since he's sure that's what the other brothers are hunting. His silver and iron knives in other pockets before he double checking to see that he had everything he could take on his person. He then burst from their room with powerful determination in every step. He knew the worlds that the neighboring doors went to, and skipped them over, heading down the line. So far, they needn't travel very far to reach these worlds that were so similar in theme. Always something to do with either shrinking or growing. If he went across town, he could be accessing worlds where the differences were more varied. Worlds with them as different animals or worlds where humans are considered monsters. Who knows. What matters now is working from the center on out. There seemed to be a theme with some of the doors. The Impala's door led to the Impala, the fence gate led to a taller fence gate, the hotel rooms led to hotel rooms. It was a working theory so he kept to the motel doors first. Picking the numerous locks was so annoying but he couldn't just kick them down without drawing even more attention. It took a few minutes per door and he had to stop frequently for people to go away so he could finish.

Once he got into steady pace, it became almost cathartic. Unlocking, opening and shutting doors all around the building. Every one of them went to a different universe, but he didn't stay long to chat at all. Just open, look inside, no distressed human Dean or tiny dragon Dean, shut door and move on. He knew he was probably creating quite the confusion in every world, but he didn't care. Not only was his brother gone, but so were Sam and Oscar. They could be _anywhere_. Any _time_ too, for that matter.

Finally, after opening up 20 different rooms and nearly being shot a dozen different times, he came to the last door. It had ladders and things leaning against the door due to lack of regular use, where they probably stored supplies and outdated decorations. Sam pushed it all aside before trying that lock, praying it was the right one because it was the last motel room door left besides the lobby. He'd have to move on to other buildings further out. Please let this be the right one, Sam's desperation was making him tremble and sweat. His fingers fumbled with the lock picks. Pleasepleaseplease...

 

Dean was sitting against the far corner wall, pressed close to the biggest hole he'd created. The other holes that were made pockmarked along the bottom. The door opened. To Sam, just Dean's head was visible where the Hunter was leaning a little to the side to see the sudden intruder to his room. The engraved gun had been flicked up from where Dean was on the floor, and not for the first time, Sam had his up and ready as well. It had been out from the start the moment he got the lock done, but with the safety on, since he really didn't feel like shooting a different version of himself, Dean, Jacob, Bowman, Bobby, or his dad or any of the other people that he'd glimpsed when he was opening up all the doors.

Dean and he had a tense standoff while Dean lifted himself up from the floor slowly to get a better look at who the stupidly tall dark silhouette belonged to. A grin forming on his face when he saw who had _finally_ showed up. His gun dropped down and Sam's did as well a second after. The beard caught him off guard and he stared at Sam for a moment across the room. Taller then him, reminiscent of the vision that wood sprite Bowman's Spirit had shown them not long ago. But at least, with the Sam standing before him now, it wasn't weird in that, older-brothers-should-be-taller way, Sam _was_ the older brother in the room.

One look at the walls confirmed to Sam that he _finally_ had the right room. No doubt about it. Holes were punched through in all the places against the wall where Dean said they were. And this Dean wasn't trying to kill him on sight for being an impostor Sam.

“Hey.” Sam greeted, tucking his gun away and walked up to Dean, shaking his hand firmly. Dean had the same reaction that Sam had seen so very many times before, so it was completely ignored. He did sympathize with this Dean, he hadn't seen Sam at the same scale in so long. But at least the cell phone chats helped smooth this meeting over. Sam was relieved he didn't have to info download onto anyone else that day. He had started to fantasize about writing a cliffs notes booklet and just hand them out to save on his vocal chords.

Dean led him straight to the wall, knowing Sam had to see inside the holes for himself. Watching Sam move around the same way as his tiny brother but so big and huge like this... it was strange to say the least. Hair's longer, gait is more determined. His little brother always walked carefully, and for damned good reasons. Guy was built, but in a slightly different way then his little brother. He did recognize that jaw clench when his younger brother was working out a problem. It helped Dean cope with this Sam/not Sam. The scruff also made him look older, in control. Dean had to admire the way this Sam seemed to take charge the second he entered the room. He was no lightweight in that department either, but having small people riding around in his pockets made his movements more careful. Smooth. He had to be, lives depended on it.

Dean was a bundle of questions that Sam had no ready answers for. Sam had some of his own.

Sam checked his watch. “They left an hour ago. Never showed up here?”

Dean realized he was staring and answered, “No. Nothing. Where could they be?” Dean asked, looking at the many holes as well.

“Literally any _where_ , or any _time_. _Fuck!_ ” Sam punched the table nearby, getting a glare from Dean for the burst of anger. Acting out like that terrifies small people. Sam missed the look, assessing the room, picking up potential clues as to what happened before he got here. The first aid kit was in the center of the table, everything out and lined up ready to go for three small beings. Seeing it was just another reminder that their guys could be hurt.

Dean saw how Sam was taking this, guilt clear on his face, and stepped in front of Sam, looking up at him. And that alone would never be normal. When did Sam get so _tall_? He put a hand to the shaking shoulder to get Sam's full attention. “We'll find them. You can take me with you right? We're going to search together.”

“I don't know how this thing works but yeah, I think once one of us from our 2017 world opens up the door, it creates the new portal. So you should be able to travel so long as it's with one of us. I'm guessing. I don't fully understand all this.”

“You and me both, Buddy.” Dean laughed, looking Sam up and down. “You're like, way ol-”

“Don't say it.” Sam's brow lowered in warning. “Don't. 34 is _not old_.”

Dean's hands went up. “Touchy.” He muttered to himself and backed up a step. Damn this guy could put out scary vibes. He narrowed his eyes at Sam, looked hard. “You really have been to a lot of places.”

“So many.” Sam said in a surprisingly quiet, weary voice. Looking Dean straight in the eyes and finally saying, “Our lives are weird.”

“Tell me about it.” Dean huffed a laugh before turning back to the wall. They stayed standing there, staring helplessly at the numerous holes. Dean finally broke the silence. “Bobby told me that you wanted to see me.”

Sam blinked a few times before nodding. “Yeah.” He sighed and said, “I'm going to use the phone and text him that I found you.” Sam said and had his hand outstretched and Dean handed it over. Sam worked it easily and Dean wondered if he'll ever get used to those flat phones.

Sam turned it back to sleep mode after getting a relieved text back, saying that they hadn't seen them either. Sam sighed, that had been a possibility. He addressed Dean again who was still looking at him with a mix of joy at seeing a Sam his size and sadness that it's not his brother and that they still don't know where they went. Nothing to do now for that, the least they could do is what Sam promised his little self. “Your Sam and I got to talking and I wanted to share our experience and knowledge of monsters with you. This thing you came here to hunt, I think we can figure it out, fill in some blanks. Not just on this one hunt. Dean and I had hunted nearly everything under the sun, so this advice should be useful. I stole my motel's notepad to draw out some sigils for you guys and some Hunter friendly spells. Ones you don't need to be a witch or sell your soul first for the power to activate them. They might work here, they might not. But, if it will save lives, I think we shouldn't waste this time staring at walls.” He said and a part of him cursed him out for doing things besides being vigilantly waiting, or actively searching for their missing family. Sam had been to enough universes to know that there's probably _billions_ more, all with slightly different circumstances making this a search of three needles in a stack of needles.

Sam reassured Dean, “Their job is much easier then ours, they just have to go back through that new entrance they left from. At least that fact had been true so far. Whatever door we go though, we can use again to go back, it doesn't suddenly make that door lead somewhere new. Dean and your Sam would have been lost forever to both of us the second my brother took Sam back into the walls if that were the case.”

It was a sobering thought and Dean felt sick for a moment. Suddenly grateful for the sliver of hope. They hadn't seen any rats coming or going from either wall sections so it was just a matter of time before they make their way back. Doing this with Sam now, it will save lives. Dean had to focus on that or go insane.

Sam started with the simple sigils, jotting down notes for what they are used for, and what materials they need to draw them out. Most of them required something simple like any kind of normal drawing implement, but some required blood, which, while less favorable to a permanent marker, was still easier to access then some of the suggested substances.

“You're kidding me. Where the hell am I going to get unicorn spit?”

Sam gave him a blank look, “Where do you think?”

“Unicorns? Really?” Dean lifted and dropped his hands in exasperation. “Awesome. What's next?”

“Sam's favorite drawing.” Sam had a smirk growing on his face. “The 'stay put' sigil. Works on literally anything. Well, anything with a corporeal form. It can't trap ghosts or stuff like that for example. It will make the thing stick to it. The intensity is adjusted by these lines here in gradual increments. Making it go from someone simply being stuck to it, to making _everything_ stay still; heart, lungs, everything. You could _kill_ with this, so be _very_ careful. It's most effective if it's drawn on something with some weight to it comparable to the thing. A werewolf would need a sigil drawn on a big rock or tree. A hummingbird would only need a sheet of paper. The thing can't destroy the sigil by itself, someone else has to break a line. Usually we have it as an all purpose sigil, keep creatures from going anywhere while we figure out how to take them out for good. Or hold them down for questioning.” Sam had looked abashed after admitting that, but Dean didn't notice so he didn't mention that he'd used it on Sam for that very reason.

Dean whistled, duly impressed with it and trying to commit it to memory as they moved on. Dean asked Sam how to do the shrinking spell that they performed on Dean, and how to make him big again. Sam explained that the one they used was adjusted for Dean's unique situation. However small humans were to the dragon, he would be that small to people. Dean tried to imagine a dragon that was big enough to view people as the size of rats. Holding regular humans in one of those clawed hands. Looking Sam up and down again, this time searching for scratch marks where the dragon might have got him, but found none. Dean was careful with his little people. They had that in common.

“So if Sam and I did it, then I'd fit in his hand?”

“Yeah. You'd be less then a few millimeters tall.” He said and leaned forward. “I would not recommend it.”

Dean's eyes went wide and he shook his head repeatedly. He'd be out sized by the crumbs of food Sam eats.

“It's not permanent, or at least, the spell we did is temporary, there might be ones with longer effects. We can end it early with a verbal command about a paragraph long. But we need him to stay small till solstice when we can do the spell to change him back into a human and Dane can have his body too.”

“Dane?”

“Dane is the Drauglin side. Dean's the human side. They'd only split completely from the hybrid mind fairly recently. Dane's cool, just, watch what you say and do. He's not exactly uh, _used_ to people.” Sam left it at that. “If he comes out, he'll see you as Dean and probably be difficult to deal with. Just ask to speak to Dean or that I'll be right back.”

Dean didn't know what to say to that. Grateful that it wasn't the dragon side that they first met up with otherwise this could have started and ended with him killing the little dragon. “Got it.” He said instead of what was going through his head.

Sam went right back to drawing out spells and listing monsters and their major weaknesses, Dean confirming or denying what he'd experienced himself and Sam made his own notes on the new Intel that he put into his pockets for Bobby to peruse later. Time passed fairly quickly when they heard a scurrying in the walls. Freezing on the spot and quickly turning their attention to the holes.

 

Flower was overjoyed to see her kid again, nuzzling him all over and scenting so many different smells coming from him now, chittering excitedly. Her pups swarmed over her kid and he laughed that kind of laugh that made her want to join in. The other standing mouse was seen a couple of times around her kid, so she let him be, but the gigantic thing was what made her nervous. It didn't smell like anything she knew and its scent was all over her kid. He wasn't scared of it being so close, but she kept her pups from getting too close to it. Planting herself between them the whole time. Standing mouse held out his hand and she came closer to him, eyeing up the giant thing before giving standing mouse a tentative lick before going back to keeping her pups in line.

Standing mouse pulled out some food and she wiggled with happiness until it was handed over to the giant thing who accepted it with a bat wing.

“Sam? What do you want me to do with this?” Dean asked, trying to keep himself back from the activity. They could barely see Oscar underneath so many young mice. The mother looked like she was wary of him and he didn't want to spook her. Not when she's got teeth strong enough to cut through metal and Sam and Oscar right there in striking range.

“This is one of Oscar's mice. He knows all of them in this part of the hotel. Give this to her and she'll like you.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Waving the bit of cookie in the air. “Dude, she's a mouse.”

Sam just shrugged and crouched down to pet one of the pups while the mouse eased around him to block Dean from Sam now too. Fur bristling and flattening, like she couldn't decide what to do.

Dean sighed and thrust his wing forward with the crumb held awkwardly in his wing thumb and she startled back from the surprised movement and hissed at him, chittering her teeth and her tail swung about, knocking into Sam behind her. “See? Animals don't like me. Here, you give it to her.” Dean held it out again and pulled back when it looked like she was seconds from biting his wing. He tossed the bit of cookie in her direction and retreated a few inches. “Happy Mrs. Brisby?” He snapped and sat down with a heavy flop.

Sam stood back up, shoving a nipping pup off of his lap and the one from his back, and pulled out another cookie crumb, passing Flower on his way back to Dean. Handing it over again but Dean pinned his wings to his side and he lifted his head up and back.

“No way. It doesn't like me. Can we just go?”

Oscar sat up and frowned at Dean. Sad that he's not being welcomed by his mouse friends. It was a short walk to his home, then through it to get to the side where Dean's room was at. “Y-yeah.” He whispered, looking down at the ground.

Dean saw how much it upset Oscar that he and the mouse weren't getting along, and wanted to make the little guy feel better. “It's not these guys. It's all animals. They just know I'm not normal.” Dean explained, standing up again to step forward. “It's alright. Really. I'm totally used to it.” He gave a grin and tried to see if there was a way around this mouse family inside the tight walls. Unless he climbed up the sides, they were blocking the way. He was considering going back and finding another path but that might lead them to another world.

Sam wordlessly held out the cookie crumb and mouthed the words, 'behave' up at him. Dean shrugged his wings at him. He is behaving. Sam gave him a bitchface back and pushed the crumb towards Dean's wing thumb again.

Dean mouthed the word, 'fine' at Sam but with his mouth it wasn't exactly easy to read, so he bobbled his head instead and accepted the crumb and stepped forward, Sam stood to the front side of Dean to be nearer to the mouse. Assuring her that he was fine. Dean went slower this time, holding out his wing thumb and crumb with slightly trembling movements. He really didn't feel like getting bitten again.

Flower sniffed at it and danced foot to foot nervously before opening up her mouth and as slow as anything, she gripped it in her teeth and pulled it quickly back from Dean who pulled his own wing back just as fast. She dropped it to the ground and Dean was about to say something but she started eating it, sharing with whatever pup was closest. Sam handed over another crumb to Dean and the process was repeated again. The fourth time, Flower was sniffing eagerly at his wings, looking for more.

Dean risked touching the top of her head with his thumb and found the fur warm and soft. She squeaked in surprise at the contact but soon warmed up to him. He sighed in relief and pet her gently again. One glance upward showed Oscar beaming ear to ear. Flower never begged for more then they were willing to give since she knew that her kid needed it as well. She chittered at her pups who finally climbed down from Oscar and crowded around her. She stepped closer to Dean and he pushed himself against one wall so she could squeeze by on his other side. The pups weaved around his legs and he kept his feet down for fear of scratching the little things on accident. Their soft snuffles and squeaks disappearing down the way.

Dean closed his mouth, apparently he was smiling with it open and he avoided Sam's know it all look. He cleared his long throat and started walking, pushing Sam with his chest towards Oscar's house. Oscar jumped up from where he was sitting on the ground, dusting off his clothes, and led the way.

Oscar's house was the very definition of sparse and Sam's heart sunk at how little was in his pantry. A dried pimento from an olive, and bits of cracker. The raisin and peanut from Dean's room and one of the M&M's. It would last him a couple days. Tops.

“Oh, Oscar.” Sam said. Oscar detected the note of concern and waved it off.

“It's fine. With what we gathered today, I'm good!”

It didn't convince anyone. Dean was at the entrance to the house, looking down at the tiny door. He figured he could fit, but, it wont be graceful getting in and out. His head and long neck went inside and he saw a chair made out of a ring box at a table made out of blocks of wood. Fabrics laid in piles, some were in the process of being de-threaded apparently and others lined the walls, likely for warm insulation. It was very dark in there, the only illumination from a crack in the ceiling, letting in light from God knows where. Dean had to plan out his path through the place ahead of time so he wouldn't mess up too much. He used his head to nudge aside a pile of threads and Sam came over to help clear a path.

Oscar saw Dean's predicament and grew concerned. A realization hit him and he shoved at Dean's nose from coming in any further. “Stop!”

Dean stilled and he looked cross eyed at Oscar who was at the same height as his head. “What did I break?”

“No, it's not that. Uh, you're about to come through a door.” He said and gestured at the makeshift door. Then it clicked.

“Fuck.” He cursed and saw Oz flinch, watch the language. He said, “Doors. That's right.” Dean pulled his way back out again as carefully as he went in since his horns aimed backwards he didn't want them catching on anything. Standing outside the doorway. Only his forelegs visible at the entrance as he addressed them inside. “What do I do?”

Sam followed him out. Rubbing his neck while he looked up at Dean and around. “We know that you and your family activate the doors you go through. It was the reason my Dean couldn't go to any other universe. Oscar and I belong here, so we are good here.” Working it out in his head. “I think, if you go another way, it should be alright.”

Dean nodded but realized they couldn't see him so he ducked down again to repeat the gesture. “Someone wanna tell me which way doesn't involve new entrances?”

Oscar jumped back up and came over after he transferred his few belongings from his old bag to the new one. The food was quickly stashed away that Sam had stored for him in his own bag. Sam saw how they barely filled half of one shelf, and vowed to stuff Oscar's pantry before he and his brother even think of leaving the Knights Inn.

Dean watched from the doorway, waiting patiently and looking around at what a borrower's house looks like. Cleaner then most places he's been, that's for sure. A little chilly, but there was a bed of piled cloth just visible in another room so he was glad Oz had that at least. The little guy's scent was permeating the walls and Dean felt bad that half of them had a touch of sadness attached. Dean could detect current emotions via pheromones and stuff, but apparently old feelings too, if they were this concentrated and repetitive. Oz was lonely. Lonely and sad for a long time. It hurt to think about, he couldn't help because he couldn't even enter Oz's house. He was detecting the same sympathies as Sam looked around too. Sure that they would help him out. It eased Dean's mind a little.

Oscar and Sam came back out carefully, worried that it was going to turn into another world anyway and all let out a collective sigh that it was the same as before. Dean hadn't activated it on accident. Oscar led them around and above his house to Dean's. Updating them that it is the same hotel every few feet of the way.

Dean was getting a workout today since the others were well adept at climbing like this. His body was nearly too big for the tight squeeze but made it without getting scraped up, or having more plaster fall on him, so he counted that as a win. Light flooded the walls ahead and all three of them were very excited. Bolting for the nearest one, they heard two very familiar humans in the room stop talking, and wasted no time at all jumping out of the nearest hole.

The second they were in view, they saw the two humans jump from the table they'd been at and dash over. Sam reached for his small brother while Dean reached for his own and Oscar. None of the smaller men had any qualms about being lifted up and embraced by the humans.

Dean was more in tune with the sounds of smaller people walking around walls to know that this was no rodent. His heart beat faster and his eyes wide open, eager to see who's there, but also afraid to see if someone didn't make it. Halfway between those two possibilities he found himself frozen to the spot right up until he saw the three small figures jump down from the first original hole he'd kicked into the wall in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Sam had his arms up in anticipation for Dean's hands and Oscar too looked happy to see him.

Only the softest of grunts from the impact of fast fingers that circled around the two of them. One per hand as they were pulled up and towards Dean's wide chest with his head ducked down. Tears sprouting to the squinting green eyes above, landing past the loose trembling fists they were being held in. “Thought I lost you, kiddo.” Dean muttered quietly.

“Dude, you have no idea.” Sam said back. Oscar was quiet but it was the good kind.

Sam had reached for his Drauglin brother and was also careful about picking him up and bringing him close, checking him over and spotting the soreness in his brother's limbs. “What happened?” He asked his brother and Dean wiggled in his grip a little to look up at the face overhead.

“Well, after a rat attacked us -” Dean started but was jerked outwards suddenly to be seen easier. Sam's expression changed several times.

“Ok, I'm either crazy... or...” Sam said, looking at the human Dean and saw he too was gaping at the Drauglin in his hands.

“Oh right. Some crazy powerful monster dude snapped his fingers and now I'm suddenly speaking English. And not just in my head.” Dean actually forgot about that factoid. “I don't think it was for my own sake, I think he just wanted to know what smack talk I was growling at him.”

Tiny Sam pushed at Dean's fingers so he could see Dean better, adding to the story. “He made that world's Sam and Dean relive the same day over and over, killing Dean each day. They'd must have gone through that at least a half dozen times.” Looking up at his brother with clear worry. “We couldn't stop it. I have no idea what it was, but it's the strongest thing I've ever seen. Power that great... I think it was a god. And for some reason, it had a vendetta against that Dean, or maybe Sam since Dean never remembered the repeated days, just Sam. When you think about it, what's worse? Being killed every day and not remembering, or being the one reliving your brother dying over and over.” Sam thought they were both horrible options. “He kicked us out of that world and we were forced to leave a different way. Nothing we could have done would save Dean.” Sam whispered, not even sure the humans could hear him but he couldn't bear to say it any louder. It ate at him. He felt Dean's thumb at his back, stroking it before resting lightly on his shoulder.

“It's not your fault. Any of yours.” He lifted Oz a bit to include him and Dean over there appeared to agree with him.

“That was the only world where they didn't have any giants or small people like us at all. One of the worlds Sam and I went to had Jacob as a giant who was carrying around the Impala with us in it like it was nothing.” Sam said and that just proved that there were more universes out there then just the ones that dealt with his curse.

Dean let out a chirp for attention without even fully realizing he did it before saying, “Yeah, and, you'll get a kick out of this one, Sammy,” He turned his head upwards. “Ran into Sherlock Holmes.”

Sam gave him a flat look but the other two men didn't deny the claim.

“And he was a dick.” Dean announced, turning to Sam who was shifting uncomfortably in Dean's grip. “Tortured Sam over there before Sherlock figured out they're innocent. Just in the wrong world, wrong time.”

“He didn't torture me, Dean.” Sam shot over to the dragon. He found himself rising with Dean's hand to be level with his brother's green eyes again. Fingers opening and he knew that look. The, 'make sure Sam's fine' look. “Dean, he didn't hurt me.” He reassured, pushing aside the curled finger that barely touched his leg. “I'll tell you about it later. All of it.” He promised and that seemed to get through to his big brother. When Oscar was lifted up next he quickly said, “He didn't hurt Oscar either, right?”

Oscar shook his head. “P-picked me up a c-couple of times. I'm... ok.” He got out before nerves shut his mouth.

Sam lifted Dean higher, examining the sore spots. Dean pat the hands underneath him with both wings. “These were from that damned rat. Sherlock was an ass, but he didn't do this.”

Still, the humans were seeing red, glaring at the walls as if they could go there themselves.

Dean pat the hands again with his wings. “Bigger fish, Sammy. We are ok now. Man it's good to be back.”

“You're telling me.” Tiny Sam said turning to Oscar in the other hand.

Sam counted to ten, still was pissed as hell he couldn't be there, but his anger was more manageable now. “So, what bigger fish.”

“For starters, we can help these guys out on their monster hunt, then figure out what to do about our problem.” Dean said and saw the papers and things on the table. Grinning in approval that Sam and Dean already got started on that. “I don't know if when we leave through the door here, if it will be to our world or not.” Dean was trying to figure out how this thing worked. It seemed to be random but also had some vague structure to it. “So, we got, walls, tunnels, doorways, gates and my Baby's backseat doors. Anyone try windows?”

Head shakes all around.

“Worth a shot.” The human Dean said and brought Sam and Oscar with him to the front door. “I wanna try something. Oz, you wanna stay here or go monster hunting with us?”

Oscar felt on the spot. He didn't want to seem like a coward but Sam was giving him a grin, answering for him. “Oscar should stay here, hold down the fort. We got double the people we need for this Hunt already.” And saw the tension leave his friend's slim shoulders.

Dean agreed and lowered Oscar down to the nightstand where Sam's things were set up. “The cell to talk to Bobby in 2017 is next to the corner over there, he's a good guy, just sounds scary.” Dean smirked. “Push the green button to talk to him then the red to hang up. We shouldn't take too long. If we don't show up after 24 hours, tell them the forest we're going to is called Wolf Creek. He knows how to get here and where to go from there.”

Oscar stepped back from the hand, facing Dean and gave a thumbs up. He watched as Dean stood up again. Oscar barely came up past the toe of his boots and he backed up a healthier distance away. He felt better knowing he was needed in the room to call for help if it's needed. If they all went and were attacked, no one would know. The human Sam wrote down his cell number and said it will be able to connect with that phone in the corner and explained how he knew that, but it went right over the borrower's head. He nodded like he understood, and watched the two humans move over to the bag-o-guns that Dean had on the other side of the room.

Sam was brought over to Dean's shoulder, climbing over to his normal spot and settled in with one of the flannel collars over his legs as he sat close to the warm familiar neck. Leaning against the skin there and feeling like he's home. As nice as the other humans he'd met were, there was no replacing his brother. He had to resist the urge to just slouch down and sleep for a hundred years.

Dean went to the front door, and held up his hands for Sam and Dean to stay back while he opened up the door and with his feet still inside the room, he saw the same secluded walkway that belonged to Knights Inn. He stepped out and unlike before, it changed into a different view. So Sam had activated this entrance. Perfect. He stepped back in, and was relieved to see that it was not the closet he first saw, but his room with Sam standing there with dean in his hands, frowning at him when Dean was outside and clearly reacting to the new view courtesy of 2017. “Well that didn't work.” Dean said and looked back outside again. He was just in 2017... _holy shit_. He shook himself out and closed the door again, locking it after making sure the Do Not Disturb sign was still there. He could lean outside, and still have it his own world, but the second both feet were beyond the door, bam. Someone skipped forward a dozen chapters in a different book.

“It's probably because we're still here. Once we leave, it should go back to normal.” Sam said. “None of the other universes came after me once I shut the door behind myself. Of course, that doesn't explain how Oscar came to our room, twice.” Sam pondered aloud and all eyes went to the small man who shrunk back underneath the bed now. Sam could see the fear start to bubble up in the small guy, worried they were going to think the worst of him but Sam gave a place-marker theory to ease his mind. “I bet wall entrances don't count. They aren't traditional doorways.”

Oscar shrugged from the shadows of the bed. Starting to wonder how he was able to get to 2017 not once but twice by himself. Neither brother was in his hotel either time. Shoot, he was the first one to travel to another world. What if this was somehow his fault all along? It couldn't be... could it? He was about to shout up his concerns but the humans were already too far away for his voice to be heard. Wringing his hands as he saw their shoulders and heads beyond the tall bed, both were at the window trying to open it.

Dean walked past Sam and opened up the window which was one of those large emergency exit ones and it popped out with a bit of loud creaking from disuse. Lifting one leg after the other, he exited and was relieved it was still Knights Inn. Giving double thumbs up to prove that he recognized it to Sam and the dragon still inside.

“So far so good.” Dean said and made sure his tiny brother was still secure up on his shoulder. Then he reached for the very tall Sam to come closer so he did. On the way, Sam brought Dean's body closer to his stomach and half covered him up with his jacket while holding him like a football out of view. With his free hand, he held onto Dean's outstretched one to tether him to his 2006 world. Dean helped him keep his balance as he led the way out of the room through the window.

There was a faint popping to the air and somehow Sam was now standing with the other human outside of the Knights Inn. The scenery outside looked the same so he was pretty sure they didn't hop universes or time lines this time. Feeling dizzy all of the sudden and Dean too felt a little wobbly in his hand.

Sam's free hand went to his forehead, “I sure hope we can get back to our own universe after that stunt.” Then rubbed his face down. Willing his nausea to fade. “I guess that proved it. Windows aren't considered as doors to the thing that caused this.”

Dean used his wing to open up the jacket to address his human self. “You knew that would happen?”

The human shrugged and stopped when he felt his tiny brother hold on tight. “It worked didn't it?”

Dean gaped at him and bared his teeth. “When this is over, I'm biting you.”

Dean smirked at the small Drauglin and brought his hand down to him and wiggled the end of his index finger on top of the small horned head where the black spine spikes started. Pulling back before the dragon made good on his promise. “So the woods that all this crazy crap is happening in, is a few miles out of town.”

Both Sam's froze at that. “We have to drive?” Sam asked next to Dean's neck.

“I'm not walking 20 miles, Pint size. I'm sure you don't want to either.” And started for the Impala. The other human stood at the hotel room. “What's the hold -? Oh right. You two ride on the hood of the car. Tie you down real good.” He snickered. Changing gears, “Or did you want to try the window?”

There was nothing for it, they had to get this thing before it took any more people. They'd already lost a day dealing with this whole mess. Who knows what happened in the meantime, if someone else was attacked and killed. Sam held Dean close and stepped unwillingly up to the passenger side door. Looking over the roof of the car at Dean and having a jolt of nostalgia at the sight. Seeing his brother about to get into his black classic car and drive to a hunt. Memories of this a million times before. He thought he'd never see it again, but of course, it was not the same.

Dean felt his tiny brother nudge at his neck so he turned his head slightly to let him know he felt that.

“We should do the thing we did before.”

“What, get in through the windows?” Dean asked incredulously but it worked last time. The tall Sam stood there looking down at the Impala's windows and sighed. The last time he climbed in through the window he'd been playing with Dean and they were children. And he got a stern talking to by their dad. He's a bit bigger then when he was 6...

A thorough scan of their surroundings showed that there was no one in view so Sam put his brother on top of the hood of the car and the other human Dean got behind the wheel, scooting over to roll down the window for Sam and held out his hand to act as the tether to his world so they don't go skipping off to giant Jacobville. Sam put a foot to the windowsill and gave a mighty bitchface at the Dean inside the car for scowling at his dirty shoes. He didn't exactly have time to spit shine his sneakers. Stepping though the window while still feeling Dean's hand on his own, Dean opted for touching his leg instead, not grabbing, but being connected through touch. Sam shimmied his way inside through the window, with the car rocking side to side with the movements.

The dragon on the hood instinctively dug into his smooth shaking platform with his claws as he tried not to get thrown off with his big moose brothers bucking. Wincing at the scratch marks in the paint close to the wiper blades and tried to rub it off with a clawed finger, making it worse. He consoled himself with the fact this wasn't _his_ Baby, but was still upset at hurting her. His thoughts stuttered when Sam's gigantic hand came reaching out for him before his brother was fully inside the car, lifting him up by his middle and swinging him out and inside the Impala to join everyone else.

“Ok. That was awful.” Sam said, adjusting himself in the seat and rubbing at where he banged up his knee on the top of the window frame. “You good?” He asked his small brother who was set down onto his lap.

“Peachy.” Dean gave double wing thumbs up. Peering out at the surroundings. “Still at the right hotel. So far so good. Let's get out there so I can laugh at Sammy's Sasquatch butt leaving out the window.” He grinned his sharp toothy maw up at his brother who rested his heavy hand on the dragon fully, squashing him into the lap just enough to tease right back.

“Heavy Bitch.” Dean's voice was slightly muffled and the hand retreated.

“Fly weight Jerk.” Sam angled his hand to work as a seat belt for his brother.

The other Sam migrated to the left shoulder to see the other brothers better. “Hey Dean! Wanna check out my room?” He asked and Dean watched the small man climb down Dean's leather jacket to land on the seat inbetween the humans, then swing down to the floor using a barely visible thread trailing from the seat on down. Sam moved Dean down directly so his claws wouldn't catch on the leather and both Dean's were grateful for the consideration. Sam led Dean underneath the bench seat and like Oscar's house, Dean could only fit in his head and long neck but he settled outside of it and watched Sam show off all the cool things his brother integrated into the Impala to make his life easier.

Dean drove out of the town and headed towards the most recent sightings for their monster. On the quiet road, he kept catching the other Sam looking at him and turning away. “What?” He asked after the fourth time.

“Sorry, it's just that... I uh. Yeah.” Sam tried to find the right words to not sound like a creep. “My Dean drives just like that. I'm having uh, flashbacks.” and Sam leaned against the door, looking out at the scenery fly by.

Dean felt like a jerk for snapping. Of course this Sam would stare. His brother hadn't driven Baby in months. He may never drive again. Dean shifted in his seat, angling his body more towards his passenger. “Sorry, man. This is weird for me too. I mean, Sammy hadn't been in that seat since he was 10. Dad let us pretend drive a few times...” He trailed off. Old regrets. His brother rarely spoke about his longing to drive, so it was easy to forget that he might never do it if they can't find a cure to the curse. He felt like he could open up to this old guy, “So, I think, this is what it would look like, if neither of our brothers were cursed.”

Sam turned to look at Dean and regarded him. Dean had changed plenty over the years, but that sight of him behind the wheel felt right. He'd give anything to get that back.

The rest of the drive was even quieter. The woods looked like any other, and Sam didn't wait for his small dragon brother to come out and watch him struggle out of the car. Thankfully, the human Dean was already outside of his door and giving him a hand. Tugging the big body out of the window by his pits in a much smoother move then it had been getting in. The dragon and small Sam pouted, missing most of it but not all, since Sam still had to pull Dean out of the car while human Dean had a hold of his jacket.

“Next time, we'll get Dean's phone camera going to catch it.” The small Sam whispered into the dragon's ear. Both conspiring against their brothers. Felt good. Sam climbed up onto the seat too when his human counterpart kept a hand in the car and lifted up the two of them, Dean, somewhat laying down in the palm, Sam holding onto the wrist and Dean's long neck. When the hand started lifting, Dean bit onto Sam's jacket for added security.

Sam handed Sam over to Dean and held the dragon close to his stomach again. Dean was never that great with heights so he wouldn't want to ride around on a very tall shoulder like the small guy was doing. It was out of his control where Sam walked. Flying was one thing, Dean could control that, this felt like he was riding a building that shook and swayed with every step. Being held at Sam's core was the best in his opinion since his stomach didn't move a whole lot compared to riding up high or down low. It was easier to keep his head on straight when it was more or less a forward motion instead of bouncing around.

Dean was at the trunk, handing over a machete to Sam that clipped onto their belts till they needed them. Sam's gun was loaded with silver rounds, but he also had the clip with the special ram's blood coated coral bullets that are meant to take down a Vellum. He'd already talked at length with Dean about the possibility of this monster being that, so he was prepared.

This fugly was going down.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up on the end! 
> 
> Happy Mother's day everyone!


	14. But In My Mind, Deep In My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monster strikes!

Chapter Fourteen:

But In My Mind, Deep In My Mind

 

 

 

It doesn't take very long for Dean to get ready for the hunt ahead. He'd been wanting to gank this bitch since he and his little brother rolled into town. His brother was placed in his 'spot' inside the trunk temporarily while Dean rummaged around. Sam's spot had his own gear and he too got ready for the night ahead. Matchsticks, salt, a long iron nail that was usually too big for his bag to haul around was reserved for hunts. Feeling better now that he's restocked and trying to keep his balance as the car shifted about with Dean leaning in and pulling things over or out. If he were any other little person, he'd find the sight of a human moving and shifting things around that were larger and heavier then his whole body, times ten, to be disturbing and scary as hell. But this became nearly routine ages ago. He knew how Dean liked his stuff and gave up berating Dean for the messy look but oddly enough, Dean always knew where things were. He just had his own way of organizing. Sam's things were lined perfectly inside his mint tin for safe keeping. Everything in its place. He was pleased with how it looked, but the scent of mint would forever cling to everything inside. He made peace with that, and, it sometimes helped him find them if he sniffed them out. So there were upsides to it.

An old machete Dean uncovered was handed to Sam who took it with some surprised reverence. It was just one his dad used before he took off, and by the looks Sam's giving it, apparently they had a copy of their own back home. More then once he caught the guy peering into Baby's trunk and looking impressed but also slightly confused. No doubt the differences between worlds and monsters had them owning different weapons. He handed over a small bag of rock salt which Sam tucked into his back pocket after doing that little thoughtful frown thing Sammy does. Dean shook his head, grinning a little. So many small things that he's doing that mirrors what Sam would do. So weird to see it on a normal sized version. No doubt Sam's been getting good long looks at what he's going to look like when he's ancient and even more hairy. Hiding his smirk at his future teasing jabs, he made sure everything was back in place in the trunk. Offering a hand to little Sam who patted down his bag to make sure nothing inside was going to shift and climbed aboard. Dean lifted it to his shoulder where he knew Sam liked to go to be able to see nearly 360 if he chose to switch shoulders as lookout. Dean was glad he got everything and even moreso that he had some extra backup. He shut the trunk again. “Let's get to work.”

Dean lead the small group towards the most recent attack site merely a ten minute walk away from the road, and they stand around a large swath of area with dead plants and dried blood days old. The flimsy police caution tape rippled in the wind. There wasn't much for evidence. It could have been mistaken for some animal being taken down but knowing the truth of it firmed everyone's resolve to catch and kill this evil thing.

“Sammy.” Dean moved his head around to see past Sam's hands that held him up, to his brother's face. “Lemme down and I'll see what I can sniff out.”

Sam complied and Dean made sure not to actually step on any of the charred dead plants that had a cloying scent that wasn't familiar to him. “Man, it reeks.” He muttered and reluctantly sniffed around, starting to circle the area. His humans following at a respectful distance behind so their scents didn't mingle too much. “This is definitely human blood. And some animal. At least... it's like.” He stared off into space for a second, trying to word it right. “It's an animal but not. Like if the Matrix tried to invent a new animal smell, and then dumped bad eggs on it.” and shrugged his wings.

Sam started to scale down his brother's arm. Dean knelt slowly to help reduce the distance to the ground. Sam jogged to meet with the Drauglin who was having some trouble navigating the forest floor in his wide loop around the remnants of the murder scene. Sam wasn't doing much better himself on the forest floor, but he felt better next to a similar sized Hunting buddy. Able to watch Dean's back down here while Dean focused solely on the scents on the ground. The taller Sam and Dean were checking up high while they checked down low.

The thing didn't leave much of a trail, the area had more plants then dirt to hide the prints. Dean sniffed out more of the area and found a concentration of that scent that's not animal and chirped for everyone's attention. “I think it either came in or left through this way.” And started walking along the path he found. Sam by his side with his silver knife held out but held in the hand away from Dean's side to avoid any accidental contact.

Sam felt a strong tingle up his neck and rubbed at it. Looking over his shoulder at the humans who's attentions were elsewhere and jolting to the fact that he doesn't feel it this strong with either human. The Drauglin kept on tracking. “Dean.” Sam hissed into the side fan ear and he paused to face Sam. “Something's watching me.”

Dean's brow rose and as casual as he could, looked up and around. Sam's knack comes in handy in times like these. The forest was quiet. Like holding its breath. Birds chirped but they were pretty far away. A heavy feeling came over them and one glance confirmed that the humans felt it too. Guns out and ready.

Nothing happened for a few long minutes of silence. Sam still rubbed at his neck and his brother caught the motion from below, elbowing Sam in the side to look as well. The Drauglin and small man were a good ten feet ahead of them, following Dean's nose.

They cast their attention everywhere, inching closer to their smaller brothers. The monster had no trouble taking out people, what chance would those two have?

Turns out that they should have worried about themselves more.

The thing dropped down from the trees, jumping directly onto Dean's back before he could get a shot out. It was heavy but Dean was still standing hunched over and cursing. It scratched and tore at his coat with clever claws, catching the skin around his shoulders as Dean tried to buck it off of him. It was glued to his back and no matter how he twisted or turned, it just dug its claws in even more to tear at his skin. He was about to go to ram it against a tree trunk, so used to not having human backup, but Sam had finally gotten his hands around the damned wild thing and pulled it off and hurled it away in one move. Both swung their guns around and opened fire at it. Lodging a number of them into the black and brown fur before it hissed at them and dove into the bushes.

“A raccoon?!” Dean cried out. “All that for a damned rabid raccoon?!” Checking his torn shirts, he felt Sam turn him around and his hand came away with some blood.

“It's not deep, shallow scratches.” Sam assessed, moving the slashes in the shirts this way and that for a better look. “You ok?”

“I'm good, just pissed it's some damned stupid animal.” He reloaded his gun with another clip and handed the box of bullets to Sam since he didn't have spare clips for Sam's model of gun. Sam reloaded as Dean went to gather up their small brothers.

Dean's wings were flared out, panting hard. That raccoon was not some normal woodland animal. He looked up at Dean who was now kneeling in front of them, hands outstretched in invitation. Dean wasn't sure how safe they'd be on the human. He was just attacked after all. Sam went without question into the hands, eager to get a look at the wounds himself.

“I'm fine, Pint Size.” Dean said, trying to see if there was enough collar to his shirt for Sam to hold onto. “Scratches. That's all. Already got all my shots.” He smirked but still winced when Sam's hand grazed by one of the upper wounds.

Sam sent him a bitchface but soon felt that tingle return. “Dean. It's back.” He warned and felt the human stiffen underneath his feet.

The Drauglin leaped clear of the reaching hands. “Dean?” He asked as he reached again. “Dude, it's not safe on the ground.”

“That's _not a raccoon_.” He growled and turned, wings still flared out. “I feel it's... anger. Scent it. It's hard to say what all it's feeling...” Dean said, trying to sniff the air higher then his puny 6 inches high nose. He saw Dean sit back on his heels and hold his gun with both hands, turning his head and shoulders to check their surroundings. Tiny Sam straining his eyes looking all around them. Dean turned his attention to some scrabbling and high pitched whining in the bushes then something took off sloppily away from them. Sam pursued with his gun out in front.

“It's heading this way!” Sam shouted over his shoulder as his gun was gripped tight and he ran hard and as fast as he could through the brambles and saplings. The beast was lolloping at a struggling pace. Running on adrenaline no doubt. He got a clear view of it as the raccoon found and started scaling a tree. He aimed quickly before it could disappear. Firing off a few more rounds as it faltered and slipped and fell to the ground. A high pitched keening coming from it as the thing writhed around. A sick gurgling sound then nothing. Sam kept on running towards it, gun in front and he saw that it had died in those seconds after it fell. He still put a round into its head for good measure and saw that it was clearly dead. He patted himself down for the salt and a lighter. Plenty of dry wood around to burn it with.

Sam became concerned that the others hadn't followed him out, turning to look at them crouched down where they'd stopped. “So get this, it's dead. You guys gonna help or...” He asked but got no answer. He mentally shrugged and poured the salt Dean gave him onto its body. It actually started to smoke a little, a sizzling sound coming from where it touched the wet blood. He held off on the lighter for now. Watching the strange reaction. It looked like one of those old fashioned science projects with baking soda and vinegar. The salt made the blood foam and fall out of the wounds. The thing didn't move other then settling into the dirt like a deflating balloon.

“Sam?” He heard the other Dean's call and saw them still crouched low, on alert. “Sam. _Don't move._ ”

He froze instantly, only moving his eyes around and spotted new movement nearby. Nearly between them. There was a hint of rusty brown that seemed to flit about on silent feet. A flick of a tail that was the same rusty brown but with a black tip. Sam went through his encyclopedia of common North American wildlife and figured this was either a fox or someone's dog. He put the lighter back into his pocket as slow as he could, and shifted to face it better. It seemed to be making a wide loop around his back so he lost sight of it for a few seconds while he turned his head instead of his body to track it over his other shoulder, but the second he lost sight of it behind him, he truly lost sight of it. Nothing moved. He twisted to see that the human Dean was holding his gun up and aimed at a spot to his left and saw the damned thing sitting nearby. Ears perked and head tilting. It looked like a regular fox.

The Drauglin crept over to a fallen log to get some height and saw the brush move, tracking it. He sniffed the air and this new scent was shifting in the wind. “Can't be.” He muttered, hoping that the wind would cooperate and send him the updated scents better then catching a few molecules here and there. What he did sense is that this monster wasn't limited to one animal form. That same stench as before, but this time with a canine hint to it. Fox.

“Is it a shifter?” Sam asked from Dean's shoulder. Peering out along with everyone else as the fox was just barely seen above the grasses. It didn't look overly threatening, just curious.

“I don't know, Pint Size.” Dean's voice rumbled underneath him. The gun raised inch by inch at the animal. The fox tilted its head the other way and scratched at an ear with his hind leg. The move so normal and relaxed that it made them doubt if this thing was supernatural or just drawn in by the smell of fresh meat. Curious about the people in his or her home.

The Drauglin opened up his wings to prepare for flight. Sam caught his intentions below and dashed to the other shoulder to see Dean better. “Dean!” Sam hissed from up high. “Don't you dare!”

“If it's a fox, it can't fly. I just want a closer sniff.” Dean said and started flapping his wings.

“Dean!” Sam hissed louder. His brother underneath him saw the Drauglin about to fly and reached next to him and just as Dean got some air underneath him, he saw a huge hand come up underneath his dangling feet. The human grabbed the Drauglin in an awkward hold as his wings beat hard to escape it. Each finger as long and thick as his legs.

“Let me go!” Dean growled and pushed against the fingers that were trying to find a better hold on his legs. “Look it's just a damn forest puppy. I'll be _fine!_ This isn't a flying fox!”

“Dean?” Sam called from across the way, raising up onto his feet and gun lowered from their direction, attention off of the fox who dashed back underneath the greenery.

Dean turned to look at Sam as he tried to hold onto the writhing growling Drauglin. Worried how this would look to his fellow Hunter. The fellow hunter that's armed and headed for him. He noticed that the fox was suddenly gone. Probably scared off now that everyone was shouting. He let go of his smaller counterpart when the little toothy shit bit down onto his thumb in protest.

Dean took to the air in a sloppy way, unable to hover, he needed to move forward while flying and found that his quarry was gone. He flew towards his brother instead who was rushing closer. Looking scared and pissed at the same time. Maybe flying wasn't a good idea. He could only manage a few feet off the ground, five at most since he only had to go a short distance when a rusty brown blur came up from underneath.

“Fucking hell!” Dean yelped and narrowly missed the clacking jaws of the fox underneath. Those sharp jaws were nearly as big as he was. The jolt made him loose a precious foot of flight as the fox prepared to leap again. He heard and saw several impacts into the large furred body underneath him as it spun around to face the closest human, Sam, who hadn't stopped running towards Dean. Dean was thanking every deity there was that Sam was an excellent shot.

Sam plugged a few more bullets in and made sure to aim downwards so any stray rounds should miss hitting the other Sam and Dean beyond his brother and his quarry. The fox yelped in pain and dashed off and away, yipping and yowling until it gave a strangled cry a hundred feet away as it crashed in the undergrowth. Then silence.

Dean tried to stay in the air and watch where it went but was too freaked to do both so he aimed for his brother's shoulder and came in for a landing, “Sammy! Do _not_ move!” He demanded and his brother actually listened this time. His claws dug into the green coat and he held on tight. Seeing his brother turn his head to check on him once his wings were folded.

Dean panted and saw the other Sam and Dean get closer, gun aimed out and around, checking their backs since it could make another surprise visit.

Sam felt his brother settle somewhat and turned to the younger Dean when they got close enough to ask, “I thought you said it was the one monster? What the hell is going on with the animals?”

Dean kept his gun out while his small brother kept watch behind them. That tingle leaving for now. “Dude, you know as much as I do. There was nothing in the research that said it's just a damned animal. This thing couldn't have been it.” Dean said.

Sam held onto the collar next to him, glad to see the small Dean was relatively ok. Just shaken up. He entered the conversation. “What effects foxes and raccoon's?”

The human Sam answered, “I don't know. But, the raccoon blood foamed up when I started to salt it. Getting it ready to burn.”

“What?” young Dean asked, turning to look at the spot where the raccoon's body still laid. “Ok, so what do we got? Ranger Rick and Foxy Lady came down with the same thing. Made them go crazy. Maybe... I don't know, maybe they were infected with something?”

Sam spoke up from Dean's shoulder, “Rabies doesn't do that.” Keeping his eyes peeled. “We don't know if this monster infects the meat of the victims it takes out. Maybe it makes them feral if they snack on some of the remains.”

Everyone made a disgusted face at the thought. Dean turned to see past Sam's jaw, “Guys. I have seen a whole lot in my life, but I don't know of _anything_ that does that. That monster zoo I was held in, they collected everything they found relating to physical monsters, and they didn't have anything remotely like that... those things.”

Sam nodded at his small brother on his shoulder and said, “Whatever it is, it's probably infecting half the forest as we speak.” And reloaded his weapon, ticked off that it was not a Vellum like he thought. Because now those bullets are useless to them. “We have to take out any animal that's showing signs of being a homicidal jackass.”

They agreed and started to pursue the fox's trail deeper in. Seeing blood spotted everywhere. It took ten minutes of tracking before they located it. The thing was half in/half out of a den, limp and lifeless. Dean lowered his gun and made a grim frown. Sprinkling a small amount of salt down at its corpse and saw the foamy fizzing. It was dead and they had to decide what to do with it. If they leave it, it might be eaten by something else and the virus or whatever it is will just spread even further. So Sam let Dean down, who watched his human counterpart lower Sam down next to him while the two humans went for firewood.

The fox burned faster then it should have which was just added to the 'wtf' of this case. Dean tended the flames with the two smaller Hunters while Sam went over to gather up the dead raccoon. The unholy scents coming from the bodies nearly made them loose their lunch. The Drauglin's eyes were watering and he had to get some air so the smaller Sam went with.

“Man that's strong. And I thought they smelled bad alive.” Dean sniffled and wiped off his nose with a wing. Snorting out some snot and taking deeper cleansing breaths. Unable to sit still, they started walking in a rough circle to scout the immediate area around the fire as night started to slowly darken the sky.

“We should go back, no telling how many rabid things are out here.” Sam said and more or less kept pace with the larger body that ambled along on four legs that were each about the same size round as his waist. So glad Dean's on his side.

Before they finished the circle to go back, Dean smelled something in the air. “Wait...” taking several deep inhales. “It's that thing... oh fuck, we got this wrong. It's not...” He scented some more. Teeth baring in disgust. “Rotten eggs.”

“Sulfur?”

“Yeah... maybe?” Dean said, wincing as he sniffed again. Detecting a trail of the stuff. “It was mixed in with the animal scent and they generally smell like shit anyways. Not to you guys of course. I can pick up on a lot of things.” Dean sighed, “Lucky me. I can smell an animal's unclean ass.” Wings unfolding in front of him as he went back to the task at hand. Sam watched as the large webbed wings acted like a funnel. Swooping thin fingers gathering up the air close to the ground and bringing it up to his nose. Sam was reminded that bloodhounds have long droopy faces and floppy ears to kick up scents from the ground as they tracked, and since Dean didn't have loose skin on his face, his wings were stirring it up instead. Sam wondered if Dean was even aware of it since he just started doing it as naturally as breathing.

“It came in the same way we did trailing the fox here, but whatever this monster is, left this way. After it left the fox.”

“It hitched a ride on the fox?”

“I don't know... maybe? This scent is nearly pure sulfur.” Dean announced, reluctant to smell anymore. “Faint but there.

“Oh no... it _possessed_ the fox?” Sam asked, jogging ahead of the Drauglin to face him. “Is this the same thing that was in the raccoon?”

“Yes. It changed, but, yeah. This thing moved from one to the other. I'm sure of it.”

“Like a demon?”

Dean's face scrunched up. “What the hell are you talking about? Demons are rare. There's no way this is a demon.”

Sam's brow peeked. “They're rare where you are?”

“Probably extinct. And they went after humans in Biblical times. I don't even know any Hunter alive that had ever seen one. We keep holy water just in case, 'cause Bobby would tear us a new one if we didnt, but, there's no way this thing...” Dean trailed off. “You have _demons_ here? Like real live demons? You saw them?”

“More then I'd like to say.” Sam said grimly. “But ours possess people. I've never heard of one going after animals.”

Dean was shocked. The straightforward way this small guy was talking about something like that. How he'd managed to survive going up against not just one... implied that it was a lot... Dean's gotta say, he's impressed. “So how to we fight it?”

Sam gave a laugh. “With great difficulty. We have some ways of exorcism and entrapment. They can possess the dead as well.” Sam could see his big brother stand up from the fire, cracking his back and searching the ground around his feet. No doubt looking for them before taking any steps. Dean had camouflage that made him disappear into the backgrounds out here. No wonder his brother had trouble spotting them. He couldn't call out to him from this far away without drawing unwanted attention. “If this thing is a demon, we gotta tell them. _Right now_. It could possess any one of us. Well, not sure about you though.” Sam said sheepishly. The rest of that statement going unsaid but he heard it anyway, 'Because you're not human.'

Dean nodded and flapped a wing to wave off the scent of apology coming from Sam before the kid opened his mouth. They saw the shadow of a bird fly around in the sky above, wheeling through the air recklessly and started walking back a little faster. Dean cursed himself out for taking the small four inch tall man so far from the others. Their path had meandered a good twenty feet away, which for them was much farther. He bit at Sam's bag and made him stumble. “You're too slow, hop on.” And saw the bird wheel around again, was it getting closer?

Sam watched the Drauglin crouch down and got on the back in no time. He didn't have anything much to hold onto but that didn't matter because Dean lifted his wings on both sides to keep him from falling as he leaped and ran quickly to their brothers.

Another bird sighting. Running out of time. “Sammy!” Dean shouted and had to scale up a fallen tree and debated flying the rest of the way. The little guy on his back might fall if he did. Dean panted as he leaped down, changing his mind on flying for now and the bird had swooped down low, missing them by an inch. If he had flown, they would have been knocked from the air in that instant. Dean ducked down and pinned Sam tightly to his back. The human Dean dashed forward while Sam drew his gun again along with the machete. Bullets didn't seem to have much of an effect on the things, but chopping them up should work.

Dean dove for the small Drauglin and reached forward with his hands, enclosing both Drauglin and rider in his fingers and palms as a large dark bird flew low and went after the holes in his shirts. Scratching, crying, and pecking at the wounds to make them larger. Bleed more. Dean rolled to his side, intent on rolling over and crushing it underneath his weight but when he got halfway, it took off again and dive bombed his hands. Dean couldn't defend himself, if he let go, the bird would hurt the two inside his hands. He jostled them up and around, feeling the two inside squirm and lurch. The bird dove its sharp beak in-between his fingers and he pinched them closed as it squirmed for release, scratching up the backs of his hands but he would not let go.

Sam was there and grabbed the bird in his hands, pulling it up and away and struggled to contain the shrieking mass of feathers and rage. It turned out to be a small hawk of some kind, wicked sharp claws, his hands were finding that fact out first hand. He squeezed the body as much as he could and it made a horrible hissing sound just before gray smoke poured from its mouth like it was being pressed out of the body. Sam reeled back in horror at the sight and dropped the bird to the ground where the smoke lingered around it, encasing it fully. The smoke moved around like it was a drop of dye in water. Swirling and dancing around the bird's body.

Dean held his hands closed and helplessly watched it all, gaping as it ignored them all. Like it was inspecting the bird's corpse before it apparently gave up and flew up to the sky in a straight line.

“What... was... that?” Sam asked, staring into the sky.

“If I didn't know any better. I'd say that was a demon... but that's impossible.”

“ _That's impossible_.” Sam breathed, staring up.

“That's what I said.” Dean chuckled briefly before opening up his hands a little. “You two ok?”

Dean lifted up his head out of the hole and lowered his wings to his sides to see that Sam was rubbing his shoulder and saw a puncture wound. “Fuck! Sam?” Dean turned his long head around to see better but the small man was too close. “Did it get you?!”

Sam held his hurt shoulder, pain making his face contort. He wanted to lie, had to. “Yeah. It got me.”

Dean scented it immediately, jaw dropping as realization slapped him in the face. “I did that.” He whispered. Guilt lacing his words. “It was one of my spikes. Wasn't it.”

Sam looked away, hand still on his shoulder. It was all the confirmation he needed. Dean looked up at the humans that hovered overhead. “Take him off of me.” He plead. “Can you... does anyone have any bandages?” He looked towards his huge brother who was patting his pockets down. “Sam. Get off of me before I hurt you _even more_.” Dean laid down, bending his neck down and out in an unnatural way to avoid touching the tiny fragile person.

Dean's hands lowered to the ground and both hands separated with careful precision as the Drauglin got the hint and climbed down between the retreating palms, laying down again. The huge right hand came back forward and gingerly curled around Sam, lifting his brother up and off but not in a way that suggested that the human was scared the Drauglin would hurt him again. It was just to get a closer look. “Ok, Pint Size. I got the kit in my pocket. Take the shirt off.” He instructed and saw Dean in his periphery slink away. “Dean. Don't go too far.”

Dean flinched and froze where he stood, sitting down with his head bowed.

Dean saw the reaction and realized how it might sound. “I don't want you getting hurt by that thing.” He clarified. “I need you to help me out here.” He pointed at Sam's shoulder and when it looked like Dean was going to protest he said in a firm tone, “Help me fix Sam up.”

And of course, Dean would never say no to Sam. So he marched over and stood over Sam, with a total lack of knowing what the hell to do now that he's here. It's not exactly like he has normal hands for this kind of thing. Of course, he has 'hands', four of them if they're counting the wings, but, they aren't exactly useful at the moment with delicate work like this. Each one of his hands was larger then Sam's torso. Dean shifted his weight, side to side as the human unloaded the tiny bag of supplies from a drawstring bag and left them to it. Dean gaped at the retreating form but it made sense, they need the big brothers to watch their backs so Dean shook himself out and sat on his haunches to free up at least one hand and his wing thumbs to get to work. Sam watched Dean fumble with the thin cloth and antiseptic before finding a flow to the task and got to work with Sam's help cleaning the wound and wrapping it up. Thank heaven that it didn't need stitches.

As he worked, Dean muttered, “Hey, sorry, for um... hurting you like this.”

Sam put pressure back over the bandage that was still being tied up tight. Breathing through his teeth at the pain. “Not anyone's fault. Blame the demon.”

Dean pursed his lips at that and after a moment, nodded. “We'll get the son of a bitch.” After a beat, he put his nose up to Sam's injury and inhaled deeply, Sam pushed him off.

“Dude, I'm fine.” Sam said and pat Dean's long nose a few times while it was in range. The feel of smooth scales that wrinkled under his fingertips at the indignant look he was getting. An innocent smile on his face.

Dean couldn't detect any big lies in that statement. Of course Sam wasn't feeling 100% seeing as how he's got a hole in his shoulder. But he wasn't dying from it. They lucked out, big time. Dean finally relented and sat back, giving Sam space. “So. Demons. Tell me what you know.”

“They are repelled by salt. Hence the bubbling blood I guess, but, usually that doesn't happen when a demon possesses a person. When they leave, they're gone. Take only memories, leave only nightmares.” Sam attempted a joke. Dean's serious face sobered him up. “So, I don't know for sure if that's what this is. Usually demon smoke is black, not gray. And I've never heard of them possessing animals. There'd be no point for them. The few that we've encountered are all into death and mayhem. Of course, that's what this thing is doing. Killing people. Using animals to do the dirty work. That's why all the killings looked like animal attacks.”

“Hang on, you said there were four toed clawed feet in the woods...” Dean remembered.

“Yeah, it's weird as hell.” Sam sighed. “What if, it's not alone.”

“Come again?” Dean asked, tracking their brothers in the treeline, one on each side, keeping them in the middle close to the dying fire. The stench heavy in the air. Dean tried to block it out.

Sam thought for a minute what they learned today and the evidence they'd gathered before the whole universe portal thing. “What we discovered a week ago is that it's only attacking people in the woods, it's not leaving the woods to wreak mayhem in the city. It left four toed claws around its victims and it's been eating them after it tears them apart. Now we are seeing animals going after our brothers but they weren't able to get very far. What if... what if it's like a hybrid. Two kinds of monsters. Or one born of two monsters.” Sam was spitballing possibilities.

Dean considered it and looked down at Sam. “I was once a hybrid. But we split deep inside the mind. Dane is my Drauglin half. I remember most of what the hybrid went through, though. Some events are more intense then others. We are planning on splitting apart from this body soon. I get to be human again, and Dane can be full Drauglin. I'm sure Sam told you about it.”

“A powerful spell on the solstice. Yeah.” Sam pat Dean's shoulder at head height with his good hand. “Good luck on that.” He meant it. Dean deserves his life back. A rustle overhead made them jolt back into the hunt. It was probably just the wind playing with tree leaves. Sam hated being on the ground but it would be suicidal to get onto Sam or Dean's shoulders. He felt safe here with the Drauglin. Even if he looked vaguely like an Eldritch horror in miniature.

They kept watch out for another attack by anything. Could be a damned chipmunk, eagle, or butterfly. Something was hunting them.

Sam's face brightened up out of the blue, “That's it! What if that is it!”

“What?” Dean cocked his head to look down at Sam who started to pace excitedly in front of his forelegs.

“This thing, this monster. It tried to separate itself! Hear me out.” He said to the confused look he was getting above. “Demons possess people, but they aren't people. They take over their minds and bodies. What if this thing didn't just possess the large four toed thing when it got those people, it _was_ that thing! When it was still alive! And now it found a way to I dunno, leave it's body behind because its body died, and is now a demon like smoke thing.”

Dean let that roll around in his head as he eyeballed a fly that came in close. It buzzed around before flitting away. He hated not knowing what the damned thing looked like now. “So it died and this is it's soul?”

Sam open mouth grinned at Dean. “It's trying to find another body! We still don't know what the original monster is, but that theory might be true. Dean an I fight ghosts and poltergeists and specters all the time. This is just a monster version of it! Ghosts dissipate with salt, and they can't cross salt lines.”

Dean considered the theory and found it pretty accurate as he faced his giant brother. “We gotta tell them.”

Sam looked towards his own. “My Dean first. Your brother doesn't know about demons as much as we do.”

“Ok.” Dean said, trusting him with this important discovery. Before he could protest, Sam was standing and coming to his side. Swinging a leg up onto Dean's back while he was still sitting down. Dean's wings flared out suddenly at the surprise but Sam just adjusted himself on the back and leaned to one side to see why Dean's head was now practically kissing the ground.

“What are you doing?!” Dean shouted, head turned slightly to see Sam on his back with one green eye. “Dude! This is not the time to play horsey!”

“You're gonna leave me on the ground where I could get eaten by some devil beast?”

Dean bared his teeth in annoyance. “Dammit.” He very slowly lifted himself up from the ground and walked as slow as he could over to the bag of supplies that was filled with strips of gauze for the bandages. “Put this between you and my spikes. I'm not shish-kabobing you again.” Handing it over in his mouth, his words muffling. “Anf holft omm tifght.”

“What?” Sam asked, accepting the bag and looping the cord that keeps it closed around Dean's neck and using it like a reign. Taking a note from the sprite Sam they'd met earlier on how to properly sit on the Drauglin's back.

The wings spread wide and started flapping hard as Dean started to run along the ground for some forward thrust. Leaping in time with his downward wing strokes. “Hold on tight!” He shouted and took to the air.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big storms tonight, so I gotta post this quick and unplug everything. Ahhh Iowa. Home of tornadoes and humidity.  
> Lemme know what you think! Comments and kudos are love :) Even if it's just like, 'hey, I like your shit.' makes me giggle and squirm all happylike. XD  
> There's at least one chapter left and maybe an epilogue. I want to end up with 123456 words since I passed the 100k mark that I was going for originally. There might be a sequel, I don't know.


	15. I Can't Forget About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight of the decade(s). Who will win?
> 
> Here it is! the Finale! I want to thank you all for coming with me on this wild ride. Please check out Nightmare's and PL1's other stories for more adventures with Sam, Dean, Oscar, Jacob and the rest.  
> And if you have a free month, check out my monster fic that birthed Dragon Dean and its sequel if you like :)

Chapter Fifteen:

I Can't Forget About You

 

 

 

Sam didn't know what to expect when riding on the back of an actual dragon, but this wasn't it. Dean was fairly clumsy but trying hard to keep level. The four shoulders that Sam was siting on kept moving underneath him. Nothing like Dean's shoulder at all. Each one independent, and he tried thinking about the mechanics of it to distract himself from how _high_ they were above ground, open air underneath.

Dean's head and neck were more or less parallel to his body as he flew, hearing Sam's coping method of screaming breathlessly. “You alright?” Turning his head slightly and seeing the pale white face peter out in his totally-not-scared man-sounds to stare open mouthed at the questioning horned head. His tongue felt dry, but he didn't need it to nod jerkily. His fingers practically bled holding the reigns tightly in his trembling fists. He's got this.

Dean faced forward again, or risk running into a tree, but was nearly knocked from his course by a large gray blur that darted down from above. He narrowly avoided it by angling his wings forward vertical to halt their forward momentum. Trying to right himself, he ended up back-flipping instead, as the gray blur attacked again. Sam dangled from Dean's back for a second before slamming down onto the covered spines again. His grip on the rope was all that kept him tethered to the Drauglin who was bucking about in mid air.

Dean's body isn't equipped to hover so he spun in a tight circle as the gray shape spun tighter. “Fuck!” Dean shouted as he felt a cold chill latch onto the end of his tail. His wings stuttered in flight and he shot a terrified look back at Sam before his whole body was encased from the tail on up in the whirling smoke. It twirled menacingly around Sam's body and snaked tendrils of smoke straight towards Dean's head. Dean realized it was heading for his mouth so he pursed his lips shut, but that didn't matter, it pushed into his nostrils and ears. Dean coughed, gagging on it. Tears streaming down his face at the intrusion into his body. Loosing more air as his wings were going on autopilot to keep them up.

Dean's vision disappeared and he had the terrifying sensation of being shoved down inside his head. His view of the forest and the others slipped away too quick to register. Even the weight of Sam on his back faded along with all sounds, but the taste of acrid smoke was all over his tongue and the stench of sulfur clogged his mind before he was finally lost to the blackness.

Sam can do nothing to stop the smoke, grabbing at nothing as it spun around his free hand, the other clutching the strings as the body underneath him lurches and falls. Wings buffeting the air like a bat that had been shot. The dragon collapses on a fallen log for just a moment of stunned silence. Panting hard. It turns its head and all signs of familiarity are gone. It's Dean's face, but his eyes had gone cold. Menacing. Sam leans back from the murderous gleam in its eyes. A low snarl ripping its way out of Dean's mouth like nothing he'd ever heard before. Dean was _gone_.

Sam tries to get off of the dragon's back when it starts to spin around, teeth clashing at his legs but Sam's somehow dodging the attack. Kicking at the large snout and getting his other leg accidentally caught up in the strings. His thrashing and the dragon's spinning isn't helping. The pull string to the bag unwinds in the middle and his arm is caught up next in it when he tries to get his knife in hand. Suddenly he feels the body straighten out and lurch into the sky once again. Dragging him along for the ride as it spins in the air and cartwheels around. His grip on the strings is all that's keeping him from plummeting to his death a dozen feet below.

After several harrowing flips in the air through small gaps in the trees, Sam feels his muscles cramp up and he's seconds away from loosing his grip when suddenly the monster gives up trying to make him fall. The monster unwittingly starts heading for the road, nearing the Impala. It's just trying to escape the shouting humans who'd already tried to kill it several times today. It likes this current scary looking body, and wants to keep it longer then a minute, so it flies on. The small thing on its back will make a decent meal when he can land far away from the humans. The morsels terror is delicious on its tongue, and it can't help but salivate at the thoughts of ripping it up and eating it bit by bit.

Smacking its mouth creates a small spark and ignites the drool inside. A trail of fire drips down to the rocky ground. It stares at the burning spot, studying it, grinning wider. Spitting amazing flames. It had never been able to do this before, and knows just how to use this surprisingly wonderful gift. It turns around and waits for the humans to catch up.

Sam and Dean had been chasing after the dragon and his rider, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Why Dean is flying towards the road so fast. Something was terribly wrong when they heard Dean snarl and flip around in the air, putting Sam at risk of falling every time. Mind reeling at the possibilities that it somehow infected Dean too.

They sprint as fast as they can, guns holstered as they go because they can't just _shoot their brothers_! They are trying to figure out its weaknesses, but are coming up short. Frightened glances at each other at the fact that both of their brothers could die and they'd be unable to stop it. They had split up, corralling the dragon towards the Impala. Hoping they can somehow capture the dragon in a blanket or net or something. The monster doesn't seem to suspect their motive as it adjusts its flight to avoid the humans as it careens through the trees. It was a hike and a half to get out that far and they had a ways to go, but, the Impala was the only thing out here that could contain the dragon for any length of time.

His fires have melted metal buildings before, a magnesium compound that is resistant to nearly all forms of dousing. Water turns the fires into explosions unless it's a damned ton of water being dumped on them. Dirt works some of the time, but even that will burn depending on the amount of flames. Hopefully, proportionally speaking, the Impala's thick frame should work.

Sam and Dean watch a small fiery droplet fall from the dragon's mouth as it spins around and spits fire again. _Fuuuuck._ It realized exactly what they feared. They'd hoped to get it into the Impala before it discovered it's abilities. The small monster turns around in mid air, and they see Sam clutching onto the thick neck for dear life. The look of horror in that face is clear even from this closing distance. The dragon may look like Dean, but that is _not him_. Not anymore. It flies hard and fast towards Sam and Dean. A manic grin on its face when it suddenly starts spitting fireballs at them. It chases Dean first and ignites the bottom of his leather jacket. Dean hits the ground to roll in the dirt, ripping off the jacket and stomping on the ball of flame before it destroys his favorite jacket. The flames lick his boots and he has to claw at the dirt to douse the flames as grasses light up next. A forest fire threatening to start. The dragon sprays more close to Dean but missing the human because Dean took an aborted swipe at him. His brother was still on its back so he couldn't catch it without hurting or even killing Sam in the process.

The monster flies around to Sam next who was running closer to Dean to help get rid of the fire. Crying out for him NOT to use his water flask on it. Kicking and scrabbling at the dirt and rocks.

Sam can barely hold onto the strings around the monster's neck and can't stop its fires. But. He might know of a way to repel this smoky bastard. He remembers about the salt bubbling in the animal's wounds and pulls out the small pack of restaurant salt from his satchel. Sam reaches out towards the right wing and on one of the inward flaps, he grabs the wing thumb and pulls it in, other wing flapping desperately, causing a spiral downfall.

It shrieks at the audacity of his dinner's behavior. He'll suffer for this!

The monster snaps its wing out from Sam's grip and turns his long head towards Sam. Open mouth snarling, smoking saliva dripping from the scorched mouth. It's wild with rage. Sam grits his own teeth and howls angrily right back as he lets go of the strings and reaches for the large mouth with both hands. His legs curl and lock around the neck to keep himself upright as he pulls the jaw closer, twisting it so it can't get away. His thumbs hook into the gums and its trying to jerk out of his strong grip but also trying to stay in the air to be out of the human's reach.

Sam grabs the paper pack of salt with one hand and shoves it entirely inside the mouth. The paper burns to nothing in a split second from the tiny lingering embers. Salt pouring everywhere inside its mouth, down its throat. The monster screams and careens out of the air, Sam is nearly thrown off as it writhes and tumbles from the sky.

Sam's also screaming in terror as the world twists and spins rapidly around him. His head feels like its splitting open with the incensed howls in-between the monster's shrieks. The sick drop from the air. He knows this is it. He's going to die alongside Dean. If Dean hadn't already died by the monster's possession. He and Dean will have an honorable death. Monster defeated. It's killing spree ended.

Dean watches the dragon spin and tumble from the sky, fire smoke trailing up as it screams. The wings writhe uselessly. Too much agony. Dean leaps into action, barely catching the dragon and his brother in his hands as Sam races towards them. By then, they're all panting, exhausted.

The monster's gurgling growl hurts to hear. Dean gently takes hold of his small brother and pulls him up off of the monster. Holds his brother gently in one hand and the other is held out towards Sam who is breathing hard through fear and loss. Sam accepts his small brother's body as the monster spits out fizzling salty blood onto his hands. Eyes rolling as a weak snarl escapes it.

“ _Dean_.” Sam chokes out. “Dean... are you in there?” Tears fall from his cheeks, he slumps to the ground. The other Hunter stands sentinel. “I just got you back... _don't give up_.” Sam reaches a finger forward and starts to rub along the front of the dragon's nose. “Come back.”

 

Inside the mind, Dane and Dean find themselves in their forest, gawking at each other. They can feel the body moving but neither one is controlling it. Dean realizes what happened. “Dane! It took over our body!”

'What?' Dane was on his feet, pacing. Dean just showed up out of nowhere and they can both feel a strange presence in their body.

“Dude, no time to explain everything. We are possessed by a smoke monster and we need to get it _out now_!” Dean shouts and scans their forest and spot something deep inside a shadowy part of their woods. “There!” He shouts and sprints after it, his Drauglin side barreling along right beside him, growing five feet taller with every leap till he's his rightful gigantic size again when he spots the strange wrongness in the tree's shadows. Snarling low and loud at the intruder as Dean arms himself with his favorite gun tucked in his jeans behind his back. Dean wiggles it in the air to turn it into a grenade launcher. Smirking up at his Drauglin for the rolling eyes.

“Hey, you got yours, I got mine.” Dean shrugs and starts launching one grenade after another into the gray shadows. A high pitched shriek coming from within. Dane starts shooting his own flames into the woods. Flying up and over the area to stomp down the surrounding trees when it tried to run for better cover. None of the grenades hits Dane, and none of the flames get Dean. They are together and will defend what's theirs. Attacking this fucking monster with everything they've got. It picked the wrong head to hide in.

The monster dodges Dane's stomping feet and runs across a clearing and Dean finally sees what it is. “A fucking Vellum! Sammy was right!” He shouts almost gleefully at the sight. Identifying it means they know how to kill it. This breed isn't exactly like the ones back home though... This world's Vellum's must turn into those smoke things after they die. Doesn't matter, his hands shake the grenade launcher. Morphing it into Sammy's gun with the ram's blood coral bullets. Same ones he crafted ages ago. He watches as Dane takes to the air again and lands on the monster, pinning it down. Dean catches up and fires off every single bullet into its head and it turns into smoke with a whining hiss, flying loose around their forest. Dean tastes salt on his tongue. Feels it weaken significantly. He pushes it with his hands outstretched like a damned anime character. Manifesting his will and command in here. Dane shoots flames larger and farther then he ever could out in the real world. Forcing it out. It's finally pushed into dazzling sunlight overhead. Their dreamscape looses every trace of shadow and heavy feeling. Their body is theirs again.

Dean's grinning ear to ear and holds up his fist. Dane bumps it with his own clawed fist that is nearly as tall as his human half.

'Now get out there and finish the job! Let me sleep in peace you loud tiny biped!' Dane playfully growls and shrinks back down to his preferred 15 foot height. 'Must I do everything for you?' Dane shook his head fondly and turned his nose to the sky as if he was considering taking control of the body, since Dean already had his fun. Winking at Dean below.

Dean had a sharp retort on his lips but consciousness pulls him out from their dreamscape. He could feel more then hear Dane tell him, 'Good luck.'

 

A thin wisp of gray smoke crawls very weakly out of the lax mouth. Sam tries grabbing it in a fist to crush it, but it effortlessly slips through his fingers, gathers up every bit of smoke from the body and speeds away. Hovering here and there like it's trying to gather itself up or risk loosing every particle of smoke to the wind.

Sam checks over Dean who is waking up slowly. The small dragon spits and gags out the foamy blood and salt, trying to get it out of his body. Everyone is tense but Dean turns to his brother and grins past some of the coughs. Turning around and spitting several times over the side of Sam's hands even if its too little too late. Sam's hands are covered in yuck but he doesn't give a shit. He's got his brother back.

Dean breaths hard and swallows several times before finally looking up at the other human and his small brother. “Sam.” Dean's voice is raspy but he sounds pleased. “Dude, thanks.” He managed before another coughing fit. “Salt tastes nasty.” He declared, belly flopping onto Sam's hands. Dean set Sam down on the other Sam's lap now that they were sitting on the ground together.

The small Sam walked over and pat the long neck. Dean's head turned into it a little. Glad for the forgiveness in the words, “I'm glad you're _you_ again.”

Dean nodded once and bumped his nose into Sam's knee, nearly making him tumble over. The human Dean offered his water flask to get rid of the salty aftertaste. Dean swallowed greedily and cleared his throat a few times. “So, that it? It's gone?”

Before the celebrations could start, a hiss came from the grasses, barreling closer to their group. Dean was half kneeling on the ground and darted his hands forward, instinctively clutching the dragon and his small brother in his hands, pulling them out of path of the incoming animal. But Sam was still sitting cross legged and unable to get up an away as fast. It attacked him instead.

Sam had no salt left on him, they were completely out, so he's left to grapple with it as it's tearing him apart. Between the claws and sharp teeth he recognizes it as the biggest and ugliest damned opossum that he's ever seen. The monster possessing it was currently changing and mutating its body, unable to keep the animals original form stable. It's growing and looking more and more like a damned familiar monster they have back home.

“Sammy!” Dean cried out from Dean's hands. “It's a Vellum!”

“Damn! I unloaded the coral rounds for iron!” Sam got out between pained grunts. “Fuck!” He still had them, but his hands are busy keeping the monster from clawing out his throat. It's growing fast and the other Hunter can't get pull it off while holding the others. Putting them down was unthinkable right now. It's too fast and rabid. They wouldn't have a chance.

Dean has an idea. “Sam! Impala!” holding his small guys tight, he bolts towards Baby. It's a five minute run and now there, he's half a second from collapsing. He puts Sam and Dean on his jacket nearby before he rounds the trunk and grabs a huge bag of rock salt. He hears the other Hunter crashing through the woods towards them. Fighting off the monster the whole way. Dean starts making a circle around the car except for the rear backseat door which is quickly flung open and ready.

Sam is trying to hold it without it smoking out and with a few quick nonverbal expressions, he knows what Dean's aiming for. The opossum turning bipedal Vellum gives up the fight when it sees Dean standing there, gun in hand.

It doesn't think it will survive another deadly attack right now. It needs to _feed_ , gather its strength. Every human it kills and eats, gains another life for it. It's left with this one last stolen life before it is dead for good. It can't risk it on revenge just yet. It hisses and bolts away from the troublesome humans. There's easier prey. It thought for sure they'd make a few good meals, and was _Pissed_ it wasted so many lives trying to get them.

The monster looks like it's going to run away, but Sam can't let that happen. Who knows if they'll be able to find it again. He grabs a handful of gravel from the street and showers sharp stones over the still mutating beast. Just to piss it off into chasing him again. Surprisingly, it works. Sam sees the pure hatred in those eyes as it crouches down back to all fours and shifts its body into attacking position. Sam turns and runs like mad towards the Impala. The monster hot on his heels.

Sam spins around in front of the rear door and feels the massive impact launching him into the backseat. Its rotting breath chokes his lungs as it claws and bites at him, digging teeth into his shoulder.

Sam cries in pain, “Dean! Now!” The door slams shuts and outside of the car, over their heads, they hear surprised shouts and movement. Sam's vision is blanking from pain as the rear passenger door is yanked open and both of them are dragged out into the dirt beyond by two tall strong men.

“What the fuck!” A familiar voice curses. Hands are grappling at him and the beast equally.

Sam is on his back, bleeding and fighting against the Vellum, looking up at a mind bendingly massive person leaning overhead. A quick grin crosses his face. It worked. He's right where he wanted to be. The Hunters are stabbing it with knives, trying to cut it off of him but the monster just bites him again, growling through bloodied teeth. Sam is in so much pain but he manages to shout, “Salt it before it smokes out!”

The brothers jump to action, grabbing a bag of salt from the trunk and dump it over the monster and Sam who's underneath it. It squeals and hisses. Sam flips them both so he's pinning it down now as it tries to maim him. His shoulder dripping blood all over its face as it goes from growling to greedily _eating_ it.

Sam turns his head to the side, sees the firelight glint in giant eyes overhead. “Jacob!” The giant leans over to see what the commotion is about. “Stomp on it!”

Jacob reaches down and gently wraps his hand around Sam's body, easily pulls him up and off of the writhing monster. His other hand coming in to pin it down. Jacob lifts Sam higher away from it as he shuffles around the tight space between trees and a cliff face to free up a building sized leg. A gigantic boot bigger then the whole Impala smashes into it, again and again and the other humans stagger backwards from the earth shattering impacts. Compacted dirt turns hard as steel plates under the impacts. Jacob thinks that ten is enough and pulls his foot away, letting it down nearby in case that wasn't enough.

Curls of sickly green gray smoke wisps in the air and Dean immediately makes a circle with the remaining salt while Sam approaches the bubbling mass of mutilated flesh and stabs the center of it with his demon blade. It finally stops writhing and exhales its last breath from crushed lungs.

“Is it... playing possum?” Dean kicks at a flattened leg. Foul smell wafting in the air.

“Doubt it.” Sam says from the ground. Both turn their gaze upwards at the Sam in Jacob's fist. Looking scared out of his mind at being captured in Jacob's hand. “Everything alright up there?” After a moment he gets the attention of the poor guy being suspended in the air like he was nothing more then an action figure. “Jacob, it's dead, you can let him down now.”

Jacob turns Sam over in his hand. “Are you ok?” He asks gently. Voice rumbling through Sam's body as his stares and fixates on Jacob's mouth and eyes. The teen doesn't take the fear to heart, he knows what he looks like. “I'm not going to hurt you. My friends can take a look at your arm.” He whispers. Checking for other injuries, he slowly turned Sam back around and lowered the little human to the ground. Once Sam was close enough to the ground, the other Sam and Dean came over. Both brothers holding out helping hands.

Dean makes his brother take the new Sam's weight to assess the damages in the firelight, grabbing a flashlight to examine the wounds. He holds the flashlight in his teeth as he and Sam lower him to a log. Dean pats him down with worry. Eyes trailing to the front of the green jacket he was wearing earlier, seeing the slash marks all over it. Blood everywhere. “Where's the little one?”

His brother pales at the implication and rounds on the injured Sam. Sam sees their worry and accusations bubbling to the surface and explained before he incurred any more injuries. “He's safe, he's back in his own world, I should get back too, they're probably freaked.” Leaning forward to stand but his shoulder burned. Dean went back to dressing the wound while his brother held Sam up for the light.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked, looking over his shoulder at the pile of goo and bones.

“Uh, we don't exactly know for sure since it came from the little guys world, but that thing looks like a Vellum from my world. I guess over there, when a Vellum dies it turns into a smoke monster thing that possesses animals until it is forced to take on its old form again.” Sam has a chance now to think about it. “The gray smoke is like the ghost of a Vellum. It's apparently acting like a demon from little Sam's world. In my world, demons are rare, so I dunno.” Sam shrugged which was a stupid move since it had him hissing in pain for the jarred muscles. Dean handed over some whiskey and Sam drank greedily to numb the pain. Then some was poured over the wound.

Sam jolted to the fact that Jacob was looming overhead. Giving a sheepish grin for his startled reaction. Repeating in his head over and over that Jacob is fine. It's safe. He's appreciating what all those little people go through, wanting to salute their bravery. “Thanks again, Jacob.”

The giant smiled overhead. One huge hand came around to shield them from the cold night air. “No problem.”

The other Sam had been absorbing all of the information he heard and witnessed. He looks enlightened and a little excited. “Ilimu! They're a kind of demon that possesses animals. Perhaps this is where they come from? They have to come from _somewhere_. What did the original monster look like?”

Sam shrugs. “This particular one was still in transition from an opossum to Vellum. Big, four toed claws. Territorial. Eats anyone in their woods. Nasty bastards. Maybe it is an Ilimu? In any case, back home, we kill a Vellum with a rams blood coated coral bullet. Or, a knife of coral with rams blood on it. Either way.” Sam wobbles his head. He scrounges around his pocket and holds out the fist full of red coated coral bullets, handing them over. “Couldn't load them into the gun in time.”

The other Sam adds, “I wonder... if you don't have these, you gotta kill it enough times so the Ilimu can't hold onto its form.”

Dean throws his arms up, each hand holding bandages for Sam's injuries. “Encyclopedia Beastanica.”

“Wouldn't help here, every world has their specific monsters.” Sam winced, wiping the grime and blood off of himself with his cleaner wrist. “I guess, titanic boots beat monsters.”

He gets twin blank stares.

Jacob crouches down with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously. Fill me in, guys. Not a Hunter. Do I gotta burn my shoes now?”

Sam startles at the deep booming voice and recovers somewhat gracefully, leaning his head backwards to see the teen straight above and behind him. “It was a Vellum monster soul possessing animals, going around killing people. Thanks for getting rid of it!”

Jacob looked to Sam and Dean. Sooo... Not a joke. His loud voice rumbling disbelief like he was being teased. “ _Really_?”

Sam grinned up at the teenager. “You saved a bunch of people today!”

Jacob looked at his bloody boot and frowned. He's glad they don't see him as a monster anymore. “Poor animal...”

Sam winced as a bandage tugged at some torn skin around the tooth marks. He reassured the upset teen. “The animal was already dead.” It was partly true. It'd been fatally wounded and the demon wouldn't have left till it was dead. Even if it was just smoke possessing animals, it'd likely kill every future host along with any human it sees.

Dean finished up and pat Sam's back. “You're good to go.” Looking him over for any more injuries they hadn't seen.

Sam wanted to thank them so many times for the help but before it could go all maudlin on them, Dean stood up and pulled him from the log. “We're done here. Sam an I have our own case to solve so if you don't mind?” He gestured to the backseat of the car again. Sam was grateful the door was still open and hadn't been closed. That would've sucked. The other Sam helped him walk back over and into the car. Sam kept holding onto other Sam's hand without explaining why, until he got his free hand on the other door knob.

“Take care.” Sam said and got out, disappearing from sight.

Two Dean's and a Sam welcomed him back with open arms and wings and he was so thrilled to be back. “It's dead. Stomped flat by Jacob's boot.”

“What?” The Dean's asked at the same time and the Sam's smirked at that. Dimples popping on different scales.

Sam waved his hand about then lifted it up and pointed to the sky. “He was pretty big at the time.” Turning to face the smaller Sam, “What would you say? About 100 feet or so?”

“About that.” Sam nodded thoughtfully.

Dean lifted his hands and shook his head. “Don't wanna know.” And let his arms fall to his sides again. A glance at the wrappings and he knew that his styles exactly the same. Even more Sam's and Dean's. “Let's get you guys home.”

The drive back to the hotel was spent with amiable conversations mixed with tired yawns and suppressed groans. All of them got the shit kicked out of them but made it out alive and ganked the monster with a little help from their friendly neighborhood giant.

Small Sam and Drauglin Dean surreptitiously took several pictures of Sam climbing through the windows again. Hiding the cellphone before the jig is up. On entering the hotel room via window, they felt a few bruises that they weren't privy to earlier. At least there were no broken bones after that hunt. Oscar was waving for their attention at the opposite wall where the cell phone was brought over. He told them Bobby called and said he figured out what happened and the boys need to get back there asap to reverse it or it'll be permanent. A twenty four hour deal.

Both sets of brothers were terrible at goodbyes so they kept it short and sweet. Oscar was a jumble of questions when they got back and his friends swore to tell him... in the morning. Sleep beckoned.

“Take care of yourselves out there.” Dean said, hugging his fellow human sized Sam. Savoring this sight and feel for later. Who knows when the next time will come when he'll see Sam normal sized again. He could tell that this Sam was thinking the same. On the table next to them, Sam, Oscar, and Dean were also hugging it out, wings wrapping around the small guys, Oscar wouldn't be left out after all they've been through.

“You too.” Sam said back, patting Dean's back with his uninjured arm. They let go and turned to the table. “And hey, Mini-me.” Sam smirked and held out a steady large finger. Respectfully shaking hands with Sam. “Don't let anyone tell you you can't do something.”

“Never do.” Sam smiled, patting the side of Sam's finger afterwards.

Dean was next when he pet Dean's head with a fingertip. Getting a slightly annoyed tongue flick in return before the wing fist bump. He welcomed his tall brother's hands as they lifted him up and walked them to the door. Calling out just before they left all the way. “See you later! Oh, and if you meet Cas, play nice. He's just an awkward son of a bit -” he got cut off because they disappeared.

Sam stood there on the table, hand still in the air from the wave and Dean was wide eyed. Everything was back to normal now. He looked back to his brother and Oscar and grinned. Everything worked out in the end. “Good job guys. Now. How about some greasy take-out and a movie. I'm thinkin, _Back To The Future_.” Enjoying the rolling eyes on his brother and excited gleam in Oz's for movie night and more warm food. Lateness be damned. Dean knew he wouldn't be able to sleep just yet and it didn't look like others could either. The hunt now finished, they deserved to sleep in and relax.

Oscar yelped in surprise when the phone was pulled quickly back into the hole, clattering loudly on its way back to its rightful owners again. The thought that he too might somehow be sucked up into the other world spurred him into holding tightly onto Sam on the table. Glad that his friends were fine. That they did it.

“What do ya think, Chinese or pizza?” Dean laid out the menus.

 

“-ch.” Dean finished and blinked a few times at the closed hotel door. Looking up at Sam for a second to see the expression on his tall brother's face. He felt it too. They're gonna miss those crazy bastards. Sam rubbed his thumb along Dean's side before bolting back to their hotel room. They opened the door to find everyone there, varying degrees of worry and surprise on their faces. Bobby was already done drawing out a complicated looking circle and yanked them inside, closing the door firmly behind the brothers and tugging Dean from Sam's hands.

“Cut it close enough didn't ya?” Bobby chided but clearly thrilled that they are whole and hardy. He held out a pin to Dean. “Prick your finger and stand here. It will reverse the spell you activated last night when you stood on this one.” He held up the book and the smidgen of blood smeared on a page.

After a full life of Hunting, he knew when Bobby gave him that look, he meant 'Now, Idjit.' So he jabbed his finger and held his breath, peering up at everyone standing around him expectantly. “See you on the other side.” He said and got gasps from everyone that wasn't expecting him to speak English. No time to marvel or talk. He jumped into the circle and everything spun around him, blurring into colors that dimmed into a darkness that enveloped him entirely.

 

Dean woke slowly. He felt a pressure on his left side, his left leg and arm felt constricted a little and he heard his brother mumble some words that could be Latin somewhere. He heard his breaths echo in the space he was in. Attention drawn to a dim rectangular light overhead where the voice was becoming easier to understand. Dean felt like his head was filled with cotton and impressions and images danced around his head for a few moments before he shook it vigorously. Trying to make sense of the confusion. Images of small people, mirror images of he and his brother but it was barely more then a thought or feeling before they were gone. An impression of great accomplishments after hard work and pain. Smoke that swirled around himself that dissipated. A half remembered dream fading fast. He shook his head and with it the weariness that tugged at his consciousness. Begging him to just go back to sleep and maybe return to that dream. If nothing else, then to figure out what it all meant. What happened.

Sam's mumbling drifted around him. A bright light enveloped all around him, pulling him away from his bed. He pushed against the drawer he was sleeping in and felt himself suddenly become larger. It was barely noticeable at first, but the tightening of bandages around his left limbs woke him up the rest of the way. This was _bad_. He climbed out and leaped over to Sam's bed where the Samsquash was sighing in his sleep. Happy soft sounds like after a successful hunt. As Dean walked, he grew steadily larger. Sam hummed contentedly. Dean pushed against Sam's shoulder to wake him up.

His brother turned away and exhaled. Dean pushed again at his dead to the world brother towering over him even on his side. No time for dreamydreamland, they got a new problem on their hands. Dean is getting larger by the second. The shrinking spell has run its course, and he's going to return to his proper Drauglin height. And Dean's pretty sure that this hotel doesn't appreciate 30+ foot tall Drauglins.

'Sam. Wake up. We got a problem.' Dean chirped.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all have a wonderful day! Please leave comments or kudos if you liked it, and want more.  
> All of the chapter titles came from the song, "Foreplay / Long Time" by Boston. There is more lyrics left in the song for a sequel... is all I'm sayin, so if enough people want one, I might be able to come up with new adventures. :)
> 
> Love you!

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fun journey! I'm glad you all stuck with it to the end!  
> There will likely be a sequel eventually, so lemme know who you think they could run into next! Comments and kudos bring joy to every author and cost nothing at all to give :)  
> Have a good one :)


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